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Friday, October 3, 2025

What It Means to Me to Stand With Israel

 What It Means to Me to Stand With Israel

Kol Nidre 5786

October 1, 2025

Rabbi Alan Cook

Sinai Temple, Champaign, IL

 

There’s an old joke from the era of vaudeville that I’d like to share with you tonight.  It’s known by its punchline, which became the title of a play—and later, a movie—by Herb Gardner.  Here’s the film version of the joke, with Walter Matthau and Ossie Davis, and a cameo by Martha Plimpton. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8yT24fnGJo


Nat: Hey, Rappaport! I haven't seen you in ages. How have you been?

Midge: I'm not Rappaport.

Nat: Rappaport, what happened to you? You used to be a short fat guy, and now you're a tall skinny guy.

Midge: I'm not Rappaport.

Nat: Rappaport, you used to be a young guy with a beard, and now you're an old guy with a mustache.

Midge: I'm not Rappaport.

Nat: Rappaport, how has this happened? You used to wear nice clothes, now you’re in an old ratty sweater.

Midge: I'm not Rappaport.

Nat: And you changed your name, too![1]

 

Like all good jokes, there’s truth beneath the humor.  Too often, we become so certain that we know who someone is—what they believe, how they’ll respond—that we stop listening.  We rush to label and categorize, and in doing so, we isolate ourselves into silos where only those who think like us are welcome.

 

There’s another well-worn joke: “If you ask two Jews, you’ll get three opinions.” Again, there’s truth here. Jews hold range of views on many topics, shaped by our backgrounds, biases, and beliefs.

 

For instance, I consider myself to be a Zionist. 

Now, there’s a word that carries a lot of baggage.  If you feel a strong reaction to my self-identification, I’d refer you to another quotation from pop culture: [Inigo Montoya clip- You keep using that word.  I do not think it means what you think it means. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2y8Sx4B2Sk ][2]

 

I’m not trying to be flippant.  But I find that when I’ve mentioned my Zionism here in CU, particularly during the past two years or so, I’ve been met with a wide spectrum of responses.  Some people bristle or grow angry.  Others celebrate my embrace of this label.  Still others insist that I’m not “Zionist enough.”  Very few stop to ask what I mean when I proclaim my Zionism.

 

I’ll get to that in a moment.  But first, I want to name something I find deeply concerning: we rarely take the time—or have the curiosity—to explore what someone means when they identify with a particular group or idea.  I have met people who call themselves non-Zionists or anti-Zionists because they oppose actions of the Netanyahu government or they feel deep concern for the Palestinian people in Gaza.  They are often surprised to learn that, as a Zionist, I feel much the same.  Others reject Zionism because they believe Zionists support cleansing all Palestinians from Gaza and the West Bank.  They’d possibly be shocked to hear that I, as one who readily affirms that I am a Zionist, don’t believe those things.  

 

I’m not naïve: our communal tensions over Israel run deeper than these sorts of misunderstandings.  But I do believe that lack of honest communication does exacerbate those tensions.

 

There are many forms of Zionism, including but not limited to the cultural Zionism of Ahad Ha’am, the religious Zionism of Rav Kook (no relation), and the revisionist Zionism of Jabotinsky.  For me, the defining characteristic of Zionism is the belief that the Jewish people have the right to establish, develop, and protect a state in the land of Israel, a place in which our people has historic and religious ties.  I wear that Zionist identity and ideology proudly and unapologetically.  I recognize that there are those in this world—likely even within this room—who have different parameters for their Zionism, so I certainly don’t mean to suggest that mine is the only definition.

 

Because of the way I understand my Zionism, I see Israel as central to my identity.  I am neither a jingoist nor an apologist.  I acknowledge that Israel, like any nation, has its flaws.  And because of my Zionism, because of my belief in what Israel canand should be, I believe it is important to affirm: I stand with Israel.  

 

This statement also calls for some definition and clarification.  A number of you have raised questions or concerns with me or with Temple board members regarding the yard sign at our entrance which makes a similar expression of solidarity.  Because of objections to policies and actions of the Netanyahu government, some have shared that an expression of a commitment to stand with Israel feels uncomfortable or wrong.  They worry that the wording of the sign implies full agreement with all actions undertaken by Netanyahu and his deputies, actions with which they do not wish to be associated.

 

If that is your personal response to the sign, I am empathetic to your concerns.  I, too, reject the corrupt acts of Benjamin Netanyahu, oppose his expansion of the Gaza campaign (even as I uphold Israel’s right to self-defense), and vehemently decry the wanton violence perpetrated by settlers in the West Bank against the local Arab population.  Were I in Israel at the moment, I would be in the streets with the millions of Israelis who regularly protest against the administration and would stand in solidarity with those who called for a general strike in mid-August. 

 

As Rabbi Lewis Eron has written, 

We Stand With Israel” [does not express] unconditional support for Israel and its current government.  It was not [invoked as] a political statement. It was our way of saying to Israelis and to the world that we will be with Israel and Israelis in this terrible moment, we will witness their loss, we will hear their pain, and that they are not alone.  As an expression of care and concern, “standing with” does not mean “agreeing with”. “Standing with” is a way of saying: “Here I am;” “I will listen to your story;” “I will accompany you even when you take false steps;” “I will not abandon you even when I think you are wrong.” It is an expression of solidarity and spiritual support.[3]

 

For me, standing with Israel does not mean ignoring the dreams, aspirations, and daily needs of the Palestinian civilians or any others from the diverse amalgam of ethnicities that call the region home.  I pray that one day negotiators will sit down in good faith and create a negotiated framework for peace in the region that ensures justice, self-determination, and the promotion and preservation of human rights for all of the residents of the Middle East.  I reject the xenophobic rhetoric; the violence perpetrated by overzealous settlers; and the annexation and expansion of construction in the West Bank; just as I reject the celebrations in the streets of Gaza following the horrific acts of October 7, and those who continue to call for global jihad.  All of these only prolong conflict and distance us from just and lasting peace.

 

Standing with Israel calls us to reject the status quo as promoted by the Netanyahu administration.  It means standing for what I, and many others, believe Israel canand should be.  Many of the values of which I speak are expressed in the country’s Declaration of Independence, which promised to: 

 

foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; …[to] ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; [to] guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; [and to] safeguard the Holy Places of all religion.[4]

 

I continue to believe that Israel can and should fulfill such promises.

 

Last Yom Kippur, I stood on this bima and spoke about hope.  “Od lo avda tikvateinu,” I proclaimed, “Our hope is not yet lost.”[5]  I know that many days it can feel exceptionally challenging to hold on to hope.  I understand that the dire circumstances of the war; coupled with the cynical attitudes of politicians, the ongoing reports of death and devastation, the relentless news stories detailing hunger, the ongoing plight of the hostages, and numerous other disheartening headlines can send us into angst and despair.  More than 700 days have elapsed in a conflict that seems destined to continue indefinitely, while the civilians of the region continue to suffer and sixty hostages still languish in Gaza’s tunnels.  We can pray that the proposal unveiled by the Trump administration earlier this week will provide a framework for bringing a meaningful end to this conflict.  Whatever the immediate future may hold, the message of Yom Kippur, and the spirit of the Jewish people, assures us that the peace and coexistence of which so many of us dream is indeed still within reach.

 

It is that dream I think of when I read that sign—when I proclaim that I stand with Israel.  Tomorrow morning, the prophet Isaiah speaks of a day when “your light shall burst forth like the dawn…you shall rebuild ancient ruins.”[6] Elsewhere Jeremiah assures us that on that day, “None shall be made afraid.”[7]

 

Rabbi Eron asserts—and I concur—that there are a number of other understandings to the expression “We Stand With Israel” that speak to ongoing efforts to fulfill our aspirations for the state and her people and are not offered to condone the continuation—or God-forbid, the escalation—of warfare and violence.  He offers three other possible ways to parse the statement, and one of the beautiful things about language and nuance is that doubtless we could find many others.  “We Stand With Israel” could be understood as “We Are Concerned With Israel,” “We Are Connected to Israel,” and/or “We Believe in Israel.”

 

“We Are Concerned With Israel.”  You may recall a sermon I gave two years ago on this subject.  I presented a quadrant, proposed by Rabbi Dr. Donniel Hartman, plotting the degree of one’s concern about Israel on one axis and the degree of one’s commitment to Israel on another axis.[8]  Some people will determine that they are both untroubled by how Israel conducts itself on the global stage and uncommitted to her future.  Others, precisely because they are so troubled by the actions of Israel’s leadership, have moved away from a commitment to Israel.  Amid the diversity of mindsets that comprise Jewish peoplehood there are, of course, those who find no issue with the Netanyahu government and have redoubled their commitment to the Jewish state.  And the final camp represented by this graph—the camp in which I find myself—consists of those who are disturbed by the policies and tactics of the current leadership but dedicate ourselves to speak out and push back, because we remain committed to the ideal of what Israel can and should be.  

 

Concern about Israel also extends to the people of Israel, and to those in the worldwide Jewish diaspora who maintain ties to the country.  The trauma experienced on October 7, 2023, and in its aftermath, have exacerbated physical, spiritual, social, and economic concerns that call for our empathy.  Of course, this empathy should not be exclusive; our concern extends also to the Palestinian people who are suffering the impacts of this ongoing war and to all those in the region suffering under the failed leadership of Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, and other terrorist regimes that have prioritized bloodthirst and personal wealth over the welfare of their people.  We are concerned about Israel, and when we say that we stand with her, we are saying we care deeply about all who are caught in this conflict.

 

“We Are Connected to Israel.”  The land of our ancestors, spoken of in our treasured texts and in our liturgy, has beckoned us throughout our history.  In more modern eras, we have celebrated the spirit of the chalutzim in the early part of the last century, who made the desert bloom; we marvel at the innovation and creativity in modern Israel that has led to numerous technological and medical breakthroughs, not to mention tremendous strides in the arts, in agriculture, and in numerous other fields.  Israelis are not only our spiritual family; they are our brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and nieces and nephews.  We have been taught, “Kol Yisrael arevim zeh ba-zeh, All of Israel is responsible for one another.”[9]  Today, this phrase means that we are responsible for advocating for the well-being of the worldwide Jewish community, including those who reside in Israel.  What happens there affects us all here.

 

“We Believe in Israel.”  Some have lamented that the idealized vision of Israel they recall being taught of in Religious School and youth group activities does not match the realities of modern times.  They question whether their teachers and youth leaders lied to them.  I’d gently offer an alternative: maybe we misunderstood our role.  If we believe in an Israel that is a beacon of democracy in the region; if we believe in an Israel that maintains continuity with centuries of Jewish culture, history, and tradition; if we believe in an Israel that preserves the Jewish right to national self-determination and upholds the rights and dignity of others residing in the region, then it is incumbent upon us to help build that Israel.  Belief must be paired with action.  We must work to bring the prophetic vision, the “2000-year-old hope” into being.

 

These understandings of “We Stand With Israel” remind us that the phrase is not about blind loyalty.  It is about relationship—complex, challenging, and deeply felt.  It does not prevent us from holding compassion for the Palestinian people and others living in the region.  It calls us to hold grief and hope together, to face pain without surrendering our vision of what might yet be.

 

This is the way we stand with Israel, with all of its complexity: sometimes weeping and rejoicing in the same breath, our hearts holding crushing pain alongside resounding hope.   We turn our eyes eastward and dream of a future where all can live in peace and dignity.

 

In this New Year, may that age-old hope come to fruition.

 



[1] Adapted from a classic vaudeville joke.  This version was written by Herb Gardner for his play, “I’m Not Rappaport,” originally staged at the Seattle Repertory Theater in 1984.

[2] Mandy Patinkin as Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride, 1987, directed by Rob Reiner, screenplay by William Goldman. 

[3] Rabbi Lewis Eron, “Unpacking the Slogan ‘We Stand With Israel’,” in The Times of Israel, May 5, 2025.  Retrieved from https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/unpacking-the-slogan-we-stand-with-israel/ June 26, 2025

[4] Declaration of Independence of the State of Israel, adopted May 14, 1948.  

[5] Referencing the Israeli national anthem, Hatikvah.  Words by Naftali Hertz Imber.

[6] Isaiah 58:9; 58:12

[7] Jeremiah 30:10

[8] Donniel Hartman, “Liberal Zionism and the Troubled Committed,” in Sources Journal, Fall 2021.  Retrieved from https://www.sourcesjournal.org/articles/liberal-zionism-and-the-troubled-committed?fbclid=IwAR3WF0aoA2q12j_8raWt2pY-Hvz498Z5e-hyoG1D4em-y5tTaSlojTgOtvw , August 28, 2023.  My sermon on the subject can be found at https://ravcookie.blogspot.com/2023/09/troubled-committed-kol-nidre-5784.html

[9] Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Shevuot 39a

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