The horrors perpetrated in Gaza are unbearable, but Jews have the language to mourn
Monday, 27 May, was a day steeped in bloodshed. The horrific footage emerging from Rafah, where the Israeli army carried out devastating raids, should have shaken us all. Since October, countless similar days have passed, each demanding an appropriate response to the unfathomable suffering. Human beings are not naturally equipped to process such ongoing calamities or to mourn the overwhelming loss of life. It should not feel normal to witness such tragedies; it is not natural.
However, Jews do not face the world in isolation. We are guided by a long-standing tradition, forged over millennia, which has taught us how to confront atrocities. Over 2,000 years of experience have provided us with a language for mourning mass death, for pleading with a silent God, and for navigating the painful reality of survival after the blood has dried.
When I saw the videos from Rafah, my mind was not left in a void. Instead, it resonated with the liturgy passed down to me—a liturgy that has long helped us wrestle with the depths of human cruelty. The mourning traditions of my people are not just rituals; they are a way of processing grief that allows us to bear witness to the unimaginable suffering and to find some way of living with the aftermath.
The images of Rafah echo a collective experience of suffering, one that is both personal and communal. The Jewish tradition offers a framework through which such suffering can be confronted and mourned, even if the scale of tragedy feels beyond comprehension. In these dark times, it is the language of mourning, steeped in history and ritual, that can help us respond to the devastation unfolding before us.
