When our Torah imagines the circumstances that might have led to the world’s first murder—Cain killing his brother Abel—it tells us that God says to Cain: “What have you done? Your brother’s blood cries out to Me [d’mei achicha tzoakeem eilai] from the ground!” (Genesis 4:10). The rabbis of the Mishnah noticed that the word “blood” here is used in the plural. This teaches us that Cain didn’t just murder Abel; he murdered all the descendants Abel might have had. The Mishnah concludes: “Anyone who destroys a single soul, it is as if he destroys the entire world” (Sanhedrin 4:5).
On Tuesday, in Uvalde, Texas, 21 worlds were destroyed.
We are fed up with the violence, frustrated by the failure on the part of our leaders to protect our children and our neighbors. It is easy, even amid this heartbreak and outrage, to feel helpless and, yes, even numb because of how sadly routine these tragedies have become. It is easy to forget that each of these lives represents an entire world, each face a family broken.
One day after the shooting, we welcomed incoming kindergarten families to our Wise School family at the home of a congregant. Afterwards, as I walked across the street, I heard “Hey! Rabbi Yoshi!” from the window of a passing car.
As the car pulled over and the doors opened, out stepped three high schoolers—all young men whose bar mitzvahs I had had the privilege of officiating.
We spent a few minutes catching up. I asked about their siblings and families. We talked a bit about school and the poker game they had just enjoyed with some other friends. I gave them each a hug and wished them well as they walked back to their car and as they drove away, one of them called out, “We love you, Rabbi Yoshi.” It’s hard to describe how grateful I felt for that moment.
The blood of our children is crying out to us from the ground. When and how will we respond?
The following morning, I spent time reading about the two teachers and 19 children who were murdered on Tuesday. In the profiles of the teachers—Irma Garcia and Eva Mireles—I saw the faces of the many devoted educators I have worked with over the years, including many members of our faculty at Wise School. In the profiles of the students, I saw the faces of those young men from the previous evening, each of whom I came to know when they were in our elementary school.
What gives me strength and offers me hope is the continuation of the Mishnah above: “Anyone who destroys a single soul, it is as if he destroys the entire world. But, conversely, anyone who sustains a single soul, it is as if he sustained the entire world.”
As dark as the situation is (there are more guns than people in this country), it is not entirely hopeless. Nicholas Kristoff, in a recent column, lays out practical, achievable ways that we could save thousands of lives each year.
The blood of our children is crying out to us from the ground. When and how will we respond?
Rabbi Yoshi Zweiback is the Senior Rabbi of Stephen Wise Temple in Los Angeles, California.
