“You don’t get to build Holocaust museums and then let antisemitic violence return to your streets. You don’t get to say ‘Never Again’ and mean ‘Not yet.’”—Michael Kuenne, Times of Israel
When it comes to Israel, the temperature has shifted.
What once felt like a united front after the horrors of October 7 has fractured into something far more dangerous: indifference, revisionism, and—worst of all—spiritual confusion.
How did we get here?
And what are Modern-Day Esthers called to do when the world looks away?
Just this month, a Jew by Choice from Maine wrote a piercing op-ed: “You cannot preach justice while rendering Jews unworthy of empathy.” Her words weren’t aimed at fringe radicals. They were directed at Christians—at churches, neighbors, and influencers whose silence has become betrayal.
We are asking the same:
How can you say “Never Again” while defending Hamas—or ignoring the mobs chanting “From the River to the Sea” on our college campuses?
Across Europe, support for Israel is collapsing. France scolds Israel on foreign soil. Germany, paralyzed by its past, hesitates to arm the Jewish state. The U.K. flirts with sanctions. Spain, Norway, and Ireland—nations who once vowed “Never Again”—have legitimized Hamas by recognizing a Palestinian state, even as the terror group uses civilians as shields and vows to destroy Israel.
As journalist Michael Kuenne warned in The Times of Israel, “This no longer feels post-Holocaust. It feels like a dangerous escalation.” Germany recorded more than 8,600 antisemitic incidents in 2024 alone. Jewish children are relearning fear. Political youth leaders glamorize Hamas. And TikTok has become a “synagogue of hate,” where anti-Israel propaganda reaches millions.
And here in America?
We are watching moral confusion dressed in hashtags and filters—young adults who’ve never read the Bible posting keffiyeh-clad selfies while denying Jewish suffering. We are watching Western leaders, eager to posture, distance themselves from Israel’s right to exist in peace and security.
An Israeli couple was gunned down just blocks from the White House. A Molotov cocktail was hurled at women peacefully walking for hostages in Boulder, Colorado—dozens injured, one critically burned. The Department of Homeland Security has issued alerts of heightened threats to Jewish communities, while New York City reports a surge in antisemitic attacks.
This is not far away.
This is next door.
And still, so many remain silent.
Are we afraid to speak?
Or have we forgotten what time it is?
In the Book of Esther, Mordecai warns:
“If you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place… And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)
Modern-Day Esthers, we were born for this moment—not to blend in, but to stand apart.
This isn’t just political.
This is deeply spiritual.
Israel now faces the very real threat of open war with Iran. Hezbollah builds its arsenal on Israel’s northern border. Hamas continues to rearm. And yet, the world demands Israel apologize—not for wrongdoing, but for surviving.
Even our cultural icons are locked in conflict. Elon Musk and Donald Trump—two men once united in bold rhetoric—are now exchanging bitter public insults.
It’s more than drama.
It’s a mirror.
Have we forgotten how to resolve conflict with wisdom?
Jesus gave us the way in Matthew 18: speak truth in love, seek reconciliation, walk in humility. But today, we trade peace for performance, and conviction for spectacle. If the Church won’t model a better way—who will?
Spiritual blindness often accompanies worldly confusion.
When evil is called good, and good evil (Isaiah 5:20), it is not just a political crisis—it is a call to repentance.
So, what can we do?
We can start by seeing clearly.
We can stop letting TikTok, trending hashtags, or diplomatic doublespeak blur what Scripture has made plain.
We can speak the truth in love.
We can pray for the peace of Jerusalem (Psalm 122:6).
We can refuse to look away.
Because when the Jewish people are targeted, what’s truly under attack is civilization itself.
Will you be silent?
Or will you be Esther?
Will you look away?
Or will you be Ruth—saying, “Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God”?
Will you turn aside?
Or will you be like the women at the tomb—the first to carry the hope of resurrection?
Now is the time to rise.
