‘Never Forget’ means always stay aware.
Don’t Look Away
As the reality of the horror in Israel has slowly unfolded in recent days, I have repeatedly heard the plea, “Don’t look away.” It’s a rejoinder to the impulse to shield our eyes from the perverse and evil images we can’t conceive of and don’t wish to dwell on. The plea is well-founded. If the words “never again” have any meaning, we can’t look away from what is happening today. To respond to evil, we have to acknowledge it. We have to look at it.
Yet I also understand the impulse to look away — to attempt to guard our hearts and the hearts of those we love, especially of our children. One of my favorite poems, “Child” by Sylvia Plath, perfectly captures this:
Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose name you meditate —
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
LittleStalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classicalNot this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.
Published in 1963, the poem is about a parent’s love for a child and the desire to fill that child’s world with only beauty — with age-appropriate “color and ducks” and images “grand and classical.”
Yet the poem also aptly captures what so many of us are feeling about the state of the world today. It’s a “dark ceiling without a star,” a black hole of badness that leaves us helplessly wringing our hands, with no idea how we can help. As parents — or as anyone with responsibility for young people — we want to protect children from the evil closing in from every direction. We want to keep clear, innocent eyes clear and innocent for as long as we can.
Tend Your Own Garden
On Dec. 14, 2012, I was driving to pick up my daughter from college for Christmas break when I heard the news on the radio: A lone shooter had entered Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, and had shot 26 people — 20 children and six adults. Before driving to the school, the perpetrator had shot his own mother. In the aftermath of his murderous rampage, he shot and killed himself.
As the events of the morning were reported for hours on end and I was stuck in my car, driving, I couldn’t turn off the coverage. The horror and suffering were unimaginable. How could this happen?
Over the next few days, I found myself sinking into a state of shocked stupor, unable to think about much else, almost unable to function. I had a child not much older than the 6- and 7-year-olds who had been killed. I was glued to the news, following the nonstop updates, talking to friends and family about what had happened, and posting about it on social media.
Finally, a pastor friend of mine sent me a note. As a chaplain who provides spiritual care to those in extreme circumstances — first responders, members of the military, hospital patients and workers, the incarcerated and institutionalized — he has seen the worst and best of humanity. His gentle corrective for me was that empathy, while a good and human trait, can also be a liability.
If our empathy becomes obsession — if we become so consumed with things beyond our control that we are neglecting the things right in front of us — we are doing no one any good. It’s one thing to be aware of what’s happening. We should care and do what we can to help.
If, however, we don’t have the ability to provide immediate help, and we’ve done everything we personally can, we need to set the distant wildfire aside so we can prevent our own garden from igniting.
Find the Middle Road
A few days ago, I saw a rabbi named Eitiel Goldwicht on television talking about what to say to children following evil such as what we’ve witnessed this week. Goldwicht, who lives in Jerusalem with his wife and six children, had two main observations. First, he echoed the refrain often heard at times like this to “look for the heroes” — those people who exemplify the best of humanity rather than the worst. In their courage, love, and sacrifice, these heroes give us hope.
Second, Goldwicht said the terrorists attack in two ways: physical weapons and psychological weapons. The physical weapons are obvious and need no explanation; the psychological weapons are the terror, sadness, and hopelessness experienced by the victims of terror as well as, to a lesser degree, those watching from a distance. With every horrific livestream and news report, the reach of that horror is extended.
Though it’s difficult, we adults must face the evil first and then pinpoint when it’s time to look away. But children can’t do that. When my son was much younger, I shielded him from a pro-life march before he was ready to learn about the horrors of abortion. In the same way, it’s up to us to draw the line and keep our children from crossing it before they are ready.
Never Forget
Sometimes, for our own sanity and ability to carry on, we have to look away.
Indeed, the evil going on thousands of miles away matters. But the people who sleep and wake in our home, who depend on us for their room and board, who need us to show up for work and church and school and to speak words of comfort to them, are not served by our own minds and hearts living 24/7 somewhere else. It may be that to keep doing the things we need to do here, we sometimes need to look away, at least for a time, from what is going on there.
What we must never do, however, is forget.
What role does empathy and compassion play in finding a path of peace and understanding amidst the chaos in Israel
“ttps://www.cnn.com/videos/us/2021/05/13/rabbi-israel-gaza-lah-pkg-vpx.cnn”>about the violence in Israel. He was deeply saddened by the loss of life on both sides and urged viewers not to take sides but to find a path of compassion and understanding. He urged us all to seek out the middle road, where we can acknowledge the suffering and pain of both Israelis and Palestinians.
This message struck a chord with me. In times of conflict and tragedy, it’s easy to get caught up in taking sides, in pointing fingers and laying blame. But it’s important to remember that the path to peace and understanding is not found in polarizing rhetoric, but in empathy and compassion for all those involved.
We must remember that even in the midst of horror, there are still acts of kindness and love happening all around us. We must not overlook the stories of Israelis and Palestinians coming together to help their neighbors, to provide aid and comfort in the face of unimaginable loss.
As difficult as it may be, we cannot look away from the suffering in Israel. But as we bear witness to the atrocities, we must also hold onto hope and look for the flicker of light in the darkness. We must acknowledge the pain and despair, but also the resilience and strength of the human spirit.
So, don’t look away. Lean into the discomfort, confront the evil, and seek understanding. But also remember to tend your own garden. Be present for those you love, support your community, and spread kindness and compassion wherever you can. In doing so, we can create small pockets of peace and understanding amidst the chaos.
The Power of Attention
It may feel overwhelming to confront the horror and suffering happening in Israel and in other parts of the world. But by looking away, we do a disservice to those who are suffering and to ourselves.
When we look away, we allow the darkness to grow unchecked. We deny ourselves the opportunity to truly understand the complexity of the situation and to work towards a better future. We give up our power to make a difference.
By paying attention, by bearing witness, we take a stand against injustice and evil. We send a message that we will not tolerate the atrocities committed against innocent people. We create a space for healing and change.
So, let us not look away. Let us face the horror with open eyes and open hearts. Let us stand together in solidarity with the people of Israel and all those suffering around the world. And let us work towards a future where no one has to utter the words “never again” ever again.
" Conservative News Daily does not always share or support the views and opinions expressed here; they are just those of the writer."
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