I’ll get to Armageddon’s better half down below. But first, a classic Jewish joke.
A rabbi, a priest and a minister were having a conversation about how each of them could help bring some peace and harmony to the world. What would each of them be willing to sacrifice as a gesture to global unity. So the priest said, “OK, I guess we could give up our preoccupation with the Blessed Virgin.” The minister said, “Well, if it will bring true peace and harmony, we’ll give up all reference to Jesus and his uniqueness in respect to those faiths who don’t believe in him.
Then the rabbi scratched his beard for a while and finally said, “OK – but only if it could bring peace and harmony to the world…we’ll give up Yismechu in Musaf.”1
You can check the footnote to see why this joke is funny, but suffice to say, it’s equivalent to saying, “You give up Jesus? OK. so we‘ll give up the first season of Seinfeld2.”
The main point is this: Sometimes in our myopic view of the world we expect others to reach out to us without seeing the need for reciprocity. Speaking as a Jew; because there are so many who hate us - and because we’ve suffered unthinkable harms that have only led to some people hating us more - we’ve lost some of our ability to love the many that don’t. We’ve been tainted by the hate, and in that way the haters have won. We cannot let that happen. Moslems and Christians need to prevent that from happening too, but we need to hold up our end. After all, when Abraham was given the command “Lech Lecha,” “Go forth,” in Genesis 12, he began a journey of three faiths, not just our own. And at the end of his life, his children Isaac and Ishmael came together to bury him.
So this is my message. Excuse me if you’ve heard this from me before. Evidently it needs to be repeated:
Unity, coexistence and compromise have got to become the watchwords of those who are in the camp of democracy, worldwide. There is no time to waste.
In Hungary, the opposition came together in a remarkable manner to achieve a shocking landslide last week. They learned from prior failures, and they applied those lessons wonderfully.
How did they? In brief, all the opposition parties - and in the most recent prior election there were many - joined to form one united front with one leader to go up against Viktor Orban’s Fidesz. Given the elaborate gerrymandering and associated rigging that Orban had accomplished over his years in power, that’s the only way they could win. But they did it.
The consolidation of the opposition was dramatic and its impact downright revolutionary. The London School of Economics analyzed the election results this week:
In the 2026 elections, Tisza (the main opposition party) excluded the possibility of electoral alliance with any of the older opposition parties, demanding instead that they unilaterally withdraw their candidates in favor of Tisza, which in many cases did indeed happen. The two left-leaning opposition parties that did field an electoral list and individual candidates (DK and MKKP) finished well below the parliamentary threshold.
American and Israeli resistors need to do precisely the same thing. But when I look at the electoral landscape at the moment, I see a mess of colliding egos and mixed messages. We all need to start getting along better. If we want to see corrupt despots fall, we must unite. That’s how Hungary did it3. That’s how we need to. And we need to do it now. We can’t be distracted.
Now, if I may, I want to turn to camera three and speak exclusively to my fellow Jews, my “mishpacha,” (family).
We take pride in how well we articulate our differences. You know, “Two Jews, three opinions.” It’s an admirable if occasionally annoying cultural trait, derived from the Talmudic (originally Greek, actually - Socratic) style of learning. We don’t fall in line. We don’t go along with the crowd. No one can shut us up. We struggle with everything, even grappling with God (hence the name “Israel,” which means “God wrestler”). They even put God on trial at Auschwitz. So differences are expected.
But what is being portrayed as a “divided Israel” a “divided Jewish people” or a divided America” no longer rings true. Certainly, neither Israel nor America are divided in half anymore. The opposition in both countries has been growing considerably over the past several months, to more like 2/3 vs 1/3.
We see Trump’s “approval” rating falling to the mid 30s recently. Meanwhile, most in Israel have supported the war in Iran, which, although I feel it’s shortsighted and ridiculously dependent on the word of the world’s two greatest liars, I can understand it, given the Iranian threats of annihilation and such. But most Israelis have now come to understand three things. 1) Trump is never to be taken at his word4 and 2) Bibi is just as bad, and 3) as Thomas Friedman told an Israeli journalist this weekend:
As of Friday, only 36 percent of Israelis prefer for Netanyahu to remain the country’s leader following this fall’s elections. Take a look at this screenshot from Israel’s top newscast, a response to the question, “Who in your opinion, needs to be the next prime minister?” You don’t need to read Hebrew to see where Netanyahu resides, whether you ae reading from right to left or left to right.
So the population is unifying in its strong intent to oust the autocrat.
The problem is that while 56 percent prefer “anybody but Netanyahu,” there is little agreement on who that “anybody” should be. The contender most analogous to Hungary’s Peter Magyar might be Naftali Bennett, but there are no fewer than half a dozen vying to lead the opposition. Joining Bennett on that list are qualified, formidable leaders Gadi Eisenkot, Yair Lapid, Avigdor Liberman, Yair Golan and, to a lesser extent, Benny Ganz, whose “Blue and White” party does not reach the electoral threshold in most polls, raising the possibility of thousands of wasted opposition votes.
While all of them are qualified, they need to do everything possible to unify in advance of the elections. But as a Ma’ariv analyst stated on Friday, “Eisenkot is not at all convinced that he wants Bennett, even as his number two, and is not sure at this time that joining forces is the right thing. Perhaps a separate run is actually preferable. In politics, one plus one does not always equal two. Often the sum of the whole is less than the sum of its parts.”
Perhaps, but at least the opposition needs to unite behind some sort of non-belligerency pact so as not to confuse the electorate or turn them off completely.
There are real differences between these leaders, including the question of whether to potentially include Arab parties in their coalition. But those differences pale in comparison to the prospect of keeping a man in power who has compromised the security of the state and nearly destroyed Israel’s relations with Americans of all political persuasions. The Israeli opposition must come together, and American Jews need to insist on it. We have too much at stake.
It looks like the Israeli opposition has heard the Hungarian wake-up call. On Saturday, Israel’s weekly “Meet the Press” program had interesting news to report:
Now, for American Jews and many others, there is outright despair over the precipitous fall from grace Israel has taken in American public opinion. In normal times, this would be a cause for emergency action, and some action is warranted. But that action should not be for Israel supporters to rally around this Netanyahu government that has caused such harm to Israel’s fragile, hard-earned reputation for humanity and resilience. That harm is significant5 as journalist Barak Ravid indicated in this posting on X:
The only way to restore Israeli and American standing and security is to replace the current Congress and Knesset with people who support democracy. For it is a recommitment to basic human rights and freedoms that will help both countries flourish and keep the rest of the world safe.
And that means we need to set aside hot-button differences and come together. That means not choosing this moment to make the Israeli public, those who are turning away from Bibi in droves, feel more embattled and isolated. This is the time to encourage them, not to vilify them. This is not the time to pile on, when public opinion has turned against Israel. This is the time to distinguish the growing majority in opposition from the embattled government. That’s true in both countries, as it was in Hungary last week.
It’s time to unify. That’s essentially what I said when I spoke at the last No Kings rally, and my words were extremely well-received. I spoke about how religious values have been misappropriated by the despots. I guess Pope Leo must have been reading my Substack when he echoed those thoughts:
"Woe to those who manipulate religion and the very name of God for their own military, economic and political gain, dragging that which is sacred into darkness and filth. It is a world turned upside down, an exploitation of God’s creation that must be denounced and rejected by every honest conscience."
The defining battle taking place in the world right now - including within the Jewish world - is not between orthodox and progressive, because the same struggle rages within each of the movements too. It is the battle between justice and love, strictness and acceptance, between exclusivity and inclusivity, between keeping out and welcoming in, between Hegseth’s brand of religion and Pope Leo’s.
Leo’s vision must win.
That’s what matters. To resist Trump is to resist scapegoating and needless invective. If you would never consider saying out loud “I hate America” simply because you detest its leadership, or “I hate Hungary” because if its corrupted government, please use that same standard in how you judge Israel. It’s so tempting to kick a country when it’s down. Try to exercise a little restraint. You’ll be reflecting the views of a supermajority of all three countries, who need to come together to effect global change and save democracy at this pivotal point.
While there are lots of issues to debate, we need to set most of them aside for the sake of the greater good. There should be no litmus test for inclusion in democracy’s big tent. Let’s get these primaries over with and onto the main event.
And here’s my lesson about Armageddon.
Coexistence in the Shadow of Armageddon
Now for a little history lesson. Because what would my postings be without some educational content?
People have been talking about Armageddon a lot these days. Let me tell you a different story about Armageddon’s neighbor to the north. Armageddon’s a real place, you know.
I love every inch of Israel, but no place is more special for me than the Galilee region, and especially the Jezreel Valley, from Beit Alpha and Sea of Galilee in the east, westward toward the Mediterranean Coast and Mount Carmel. Nowhere on earth can one find such a combination of natural beauty and ancient history. There Deborah defeated the Canaanites on Mount Tabor, Saul succumbed to the Philistines on the slopes of Gilboa, and there the epic revolt against the Romans took shape. There Jesus preached (and lived) and Saladin marched. There the swamps were drained by the early Zionist pioneers; there thousands of barren acres of hillside were carpeted with greenery by the Jewish National Fund in the 1920s. And there the hills are often not natural hills at all, but accumulated layers of time, century upon century, civilization upon civilization, one on top of the other.
At the center of it all is Megiddo, sitting on the crossroads of the ages, atop 26 layers of civilization. No wonder it is considered the place where the end of days will arrive, Armageddon (literally “Mount of Meggido”). When you walk there your existence transcends a given place or time. You become one with all that has ever occurred and all that ever will. You are the vertical axis cutting through all the layers of history simultaneously.
If you drive from Meggido through the Jezreel Valley for a half hour or so, past the rich farmland and small kibbutzim, and there you’ll find another village nestled in a hill, the ancient town of Tzippori, which was a center of Jewish life in Roman times. Sepphoris in Greek, Saffuriya in Arabic, one of the most excavated, scrutinized and contested sites in Israel.
The rabbis of the Mishnah lived there, and - here’s the key - this is a place where the Jewish and pagan populations coexisted in harmony. The name of the place, which means “bird,” is said to have come from the fact that it is perched on the top of a mountain like a bird.
It’s 33 minutes from Megiddo to Tzippori by car, seven hours on foot, maybe an hour as the tzipor flies. It was a quick three hour walk for Jesus from Nazareth, and I’ll bet he went up there for some carpentry jobs in the pricy villas.
The great historian Josephus called it “the jewel of all Galilee.” There the days are cooler than in the valley below, and rabbis were known to travel there from Tiberias when they fell ill. Tzippori takes the high ground, literally and politically; and during the Jewish War against Rome (66-70 CE), its Jews supported the Romans. The town was renamed Eirenopolis Neronias (City of Peace of Nero) on coins minted at that time.
You may call it treason - and I admit, it doesn’t look great - but who are we to judge? That war didn’t work out so well for the Zealots, you know6, not so different from our current skirmish, led by modern-day zealots. Josephus himself moderated his views when he saw how extremist his zealots had become.
Which is precisely what is happening in America and Israel right now.
But in Tzippori, life was marked by upscale coexistence. Within a few hundred meters, you can find the marvelously preserved ruins of a synagogue with mosaic floor containing the zodiac, which sits next to a Roman theater, which lies adjacent to a wealthy Jew’s home with portraits of Dionysus, all beneath a Crusader fortress at the top of the hill.7 It’s a place where, for the most part, people with different backgrounds got along.
In the Talmud, a rabbi is asked how he could possibly enter the Roman bathhouse (the one described happened to be in nearby Akko, another integrated city) decorated with idols of Aphrodite. The rabbi says, essentially, “Hey, I gotta take a bath. And it’s not like I’m entering Aphrodite’s place – Aphrodite entered mine!”8
That’s how they coexisted in places like ancient Tzippori. When the Arabs tried to hold this strategic location in 1948, they planted cacti along the hillside to impede the Jewish advance. Yes, in a stunning twist of irony, in order to keep the Jews from laying down roots, the Arabs of Tzippori planted gorgeous clusters of these indigenous cactus plants, literally laying down Sabra roots.
Theater, art, worship, rabbinic and Roman close together, a little opulence and a whole lot of integrity, able to live side by side. All just a stone’s throw from Armageddon.
Armageddon or Tzippori? Pete Hegseth or Pope Leo? The coalescing supermajority or the corrupt autocrats who are out of control?
Which would you choose?
As for me, if we could have two more elections like the one that happened last week, I’d give up two seasons of Seinfeld for that!
NOTES:
Yismechu is an enjoyable but very expendable prayer in a part of the Sabbath service, and Musaf, which literally means “added-on,” is an extra prayer service (Amidah), designed to recall and replace the sacrifices brought to the ancient temple on Shabbat.
Here’s how I described Musaf in a service guide I created for the congregation:
Musaf is an additional Amidah is inserted into traditional services (generally not in Reform and Reconstructionist prayer books) for Shabbat and holidays to help us recall the glory and grandeur of ancient Jerusalem. Musaf means “additional.” While some have an aversion to the sacrificial system that existed in those times, that is not the point here. The rabbis also disliked animal sacrifice and replaced it with prayer and good deeds when the Holy Temple was destroyed. We should keep in mind, however, that most animals sacrificed were then grilled and eaten by priests in the Temple. In that sense, the sacrificial system was as morally repugnant as your basic barbecue, and its impact on the participant was much more profound. Musaf calls on us to better appreciate the power of life and death that we hold over all living creatures, the ways we try to channel and control our violent urges, and our need to seek closeness with God.
Musaf directs our attention to the lessons of Jewish history. By recalling the Temple and its destruction, we gain added motivation to return Jerusalem to its glory, not by reinstituting sacrifices, but by helping it to become a city of eternal Sabbath peace. That is the Jerusalem we yearn to rebuild, and we yearn no less fervently in the relative comfort of this American diaspora. In this post-1948 context (State of Israel exists), Musaf challenges us to celebrate future Sabbaths in Israel and to work toward bringing peace to our reborn Jewish homeland.
And in the post-1945 context (after the Holocaust), Musaf also reminds us that the destruction of the Temple was not the final disaster to befall the Jews, and that during the Holocaust it was people, not sheep and goats, who were sacrificed in great pillars of smoke. Following the Holocaust, Musaf brings us the hope that a moment of Sabbath peace can calm our troubled hearts, and that our Shabbat offering of rest will set an example for all of humanity, so that acts of such inhumanity will never happen again.
Musaf is especially significant - and much longer - in High Holidays liturgy.
And here’s how I explained the part of the service known as the “Amidah,” of which Musaf is a second version:
Amidah means “The Standing Prayer,” and is also known as, simply “The Prayer” in Hebrew. It is a collection of blessings, praises and petitions, and takes a different form on Shabbat and festivals. The weekday Amidah contains a number of specific requests relating to our hopes for the world and ourselves. Today, however, we limit ourselves mostly to praise and gratitude, in recognition that Shabbat is a most generous and precious gift in itself. Any other request would be distasteful. Nonetheless, one important petition does sneak in at the end— the prayer for peace (Sim Shalom). The Amidah has been an integral part of Jewish prayer since at least the first century.
With this prayer we’ve reached the fourth and final level of spiritual awakening, beyond the physical, emotional and rational. The Amidah is purely experiential. Going beyond feeling, analyzing and understanding, here we seek to actually experience the Sacred. We stand and chant in unison with our community, invoking our ancestors, reaching out to our descendants and rubbing shoulders with Jews all over the world. Through this extraordinary communion, we sense a spark of immortality within us, a purpose to our being—and that we are not alone.
Widely considered the worst season of the show. Characters were underdeveloped and Kramer was originally called “Kessler.”
How Péter Magyar and Tisza remade the Hungarian party system (London School of Economics)
See this Tweet:
The war had profound consequences for the Jewish people, many being killed, displaced, or sold into slavery. The rabbinic sages emerged as leading figures and established a rabbinic center in Yavneh, marking a key moment in the development of Rabbinic Judaism as it adapted to the post-Temple reality. These events in Jewish history signify the transition from the Second Temple period to the Rabbinic period. The revolt also hastened the separation between Christianity and Judaism. The victory strengthened the new Flavian dynasty, which commemorated it through monumental constructions and coinage, imposed a punitive tax on all Jews, and increased military presence in the region. The Jewish–Roman wars culminated in the Bar Kokhba revolt (132–136 CE), the last major attempt to restore Jewish independence, which resulted in even more catastrophic consequences.
MONA LISA OF THE GALILEE (PBS)
One of the more exciting discoveries that we made at Sepphoris was a magnificent Roman villa with a gorgeous, gorgeous mosaic on its floor in a banquet hall. And this villa, which we call the Villa of Dionysus because so many of the scenes are concerned with the legend and mythology of the god Dionysus, has at two of its ends in this banquet hall, one very attractive woman and one not so attractive woman. The lady who is not so attractive was not depicted as well as the other, but she was also injured badly during the great earthquake which destroyed Sepphoris in 363. But the lady on the other side was dubbed “Mona Lisa” by the press when we found her because she’s really an extraordinary depiction in stone of a beautiful woman of Roman antiquity. She might be one of the four seasons. But one has the feeling that behind that face was a real woman and a real figure. Because the artistry that depicts it in stone is so delicate and so exquisite and so painterly. And so she has become kind of synonymous with the site even though she’s from the 3rd century, the high point of Hellenization at the site. She has now become synonymous with the Romanization of the site and Hellenization....
The discovery of these scenes of the mythology of Dionysus on the floor of a public house in a banquet hall in a Jewish town certainly blew most everyone’s mind. And made us think for the first time that there was a much more liberal attitude towards the second commandment banning pictorial images in Judaism and that Jews in general were much more flexible with respect to image making and artistic presentation and activity, in the very period where the Mishna, the first major Jewish body of law to be codified in Palestine at Sepphoris in the third century, was being produced side by side with this great piece of work.
Mishna Avoda Zara 3:4
