The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the views of The Prowler.

We may have been in our own homes, perhaps our own synagogues, just as those worshipers were as they celebrated a Brit Milah, a new life. I was at home, talking to my parents about what I thought was a big deal, an 18 inning baseball game. That was the “big deal” of the moment. But it is no longer.

Shooting after shooting after shooting. Should we even be surprised? Nothing changes. It’s common now, almost usual to hear it: “another shooting… six casualties, seven casualties, eight, nine, ten…” Schools, malls, bars, night clubs, movie theaters, synagogues.

A synagogue. A Jewish house of worship. We are a Jewish house. By nature it hurts more: our people, our pain. It should not be this easy to destroy. It should not be this easy to kill. Hatred does not make sense. And yet, acts like these seem almost inevitable these days. Senseless hatred. This time it was Pittsburgh, but next time it could be closer. We feel helpless, angry, and empty.

It is fitting to look towards our teachings and prophets for some sort of comfort. The Prophet Isaiah dreamed of a time when, “My house will be called a house of prayer for all the nations” (56.7).  Isaiah yearned for a day when all nations could reside together and find comfort in one another. He yearned for a day when being Jewish, Christian, or Muslim would not be a dark curtain preventing us from looking at each other and seeing the other side: people who have more in common than not. We are the only people who can bring about that beautiful vision of a time when we will feel safe to pursue our spirituality in our houses of worship. We are the ones who must work to eradicate hateful movements that promote white supremacy, antisemitism, racism and xenophobia. We are the ones who must create a world in which we can all worship together, under one roof.