Dear TEE community,

Last week I joined 26 other rabbis in an action that led to my arrest at the office of Senate Majority Leader John Thune. We were there to protest the situation in Gaza, where basic humanitarian aid is being held back while the world watches people starve. We felt compelled to act, based on the Jewish teaching that “if there is a hungry person, one must feed them” and our belief that starvation must not be used as a weapon of war.

I decided to make the trip to DC because I have felt so powerless in the face of the suffering being imposed in my name as a Jew. I thought of the injunction in Leviticus that one must not stand idly by the blood of another, as well as the concept of pikuach nefesh, the imperative to save life. The necessity of protest is explicitly stated in the Talmud:

Those who have the capability to effectively protest the harmful conduct of the members of their household and do not protest, they themselves are apprehended for the harms of the members of their household and punished. If they are in a position to protest the harmful conduct of the people of their town, and fail to do so, they are apprehended for the harms of the people of their town. If they are in a position to protest the harmful conduct of the whole world, and fail to do so, they apprehended for the harms of the whole world (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 54b).

We entered Senator Thune’s office wearing our tallitot and dressed in black as if officiating a funeral. Some us sat down while others held up banners with “Rabbis Say: Protect Life!” and “Jews Say: Stop the Blockade!” Because it was the week before Tisha b’Av, the fast day commemorating the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, we chanted excerpts from the Book of Lamentations, which contains heartrending descriptions of that earlier siege and starvation, such as, “The tongue of the suckling cleaves to its palate for thirst. Little children beg for bread; no one gives them a morsel (Lamentations 4:4).”

We then began to sing Psalm 23, another text associated with mourning, at which point the Capitol police entered the office. One of my colleagues later wrote, “The holiness in that room was palpable, even as we were zip-tied and arrested,” and I think we all felt that. We continued singing as we were led down to the basement and lined up to get on a bus to take us to be processed.

While I was, of course, hoping our action would have some impact, I was surprised by the extent of the coverage it received. In addition to the Jewish and Israeli press, the AP sent it out, NPR interviewed one of the rabbis involved, and there were articles in European news outlets, such as The Guardian, as well. Many of the responses confirmed another goal I had in participating in the action, which was to express the distress of the numerous Jews who felt the same way but didn’t have a public voice.

I understand this action may be difficult for some of you to support. We all come to this crisis with different perspectives shaped by our experiences and deep concerns for all who are suffering. I don’t expect everyone to agree with my approach, but I hope you can understand why I felt called to act. For me, this isn’t about politics – it’s about the sacred value of human life and my belief that, as a Jew, I am commanded to do
whatever I can to honor it.

With respect for all our journeys,

Rabbi Drorah Setel

PS Our action took place under the auspices of Jews for Food Aid for People in Gaza.

For more information about the campaign and how to help:
https://www.foodaidforgaza.org/