Our friend Rabbi Shai Zarchi from the Neggun HaLev community likes to tell a metaphorical story about the Zionist project. He says that when we came to build the Land, we came with a huge burden, large and incredibly heavy suitcases that grew over the generations, and when we arrived with all this enormous burden at the foot of the mountain, we couldn't carry it all up – so we went up without it, and thus we built a state. 

Time has passed, and today we are in a different era. Now, we finally have the time and the desire to go down to the bottom of the mountain, to meet the treasure chest we abandoned, and to search through it for what we need to continue building our lives here above, on the summit of the mountain.

This treasure chest is ours, it always has been. But not everything in it is necessary for us. Our role is to sift through it and choose what is essential for our continued journey.

Because our heritage contains everything, the whole lot. There is zealotry and there is moderation, there is arrogance and there is humility, there is insularity and there is openness, there are the most progressive values known to universal culture, and there is vindictiveness, jealousy, hatred of the other, and pettiness.

The weekly Torah portion is named after one of the most famous zealots and fanatics in the Torah, Pinchas son of Eleazar son of Aaron. To stop a plague in the face of the leaders' inaction, he decides to kill
You are a singer and a stateswoman. God "rewards" his act, so to speak, and gives him a "covenant of peace.".

Some read this as a reward for zeal, while others interpret "covenant of peace" in the exact opposite way: since it is an act of fanatical extreme zeal – it requires God's "covenant of peace" to moderate it.
And thus it is not a reward for extremism, but a call for moderation.

The Sages further add and say that Pinhas is actually Elijah the Prophet, and in this way they too join those who criticize Pinhas's deed: emphasizing that Elijah was not only punished and reprimanded for his zeal, but also
Make him a kind and peaceable old man, who brings peace to the world and visits alliances, celebrations, and Passover seders.

"Behold, I will give unto him my covenant of peace" (Numbers 25:12). Opposition to this verse is already found within the Torah scroll itself. Examine the Torah scroll carefully, and you will see that in the word "shalom" (peace) here, the letter VAV appears cut off – a very rare occurrence in the Torah. It seems that someone in the world of the Masoretes (the Masoretic notes reach us from the 8th and 9th centuries) wished to convey to future generations the message that this 'peace" was not entirely complete.

For our generation, Pinchas is one of the most difficult figures in the biblical world. The tradition that he was reborn as Elijah the Prophet perhaps indicates that even in ancient times, it was understood that this hero must
 "Makeover." Elijah will come to announce the final redemption for all humankind. Tribal vengeance must end before this redemption can come into the world. Elijah will come not only "to turn the heart of the fathers to
"Sons and hearts of sons to their fathers", but also the heart of Midian to the sons of Israel and the heart of Israel to the sons of Midian.

This is one example out of countless examples that Judaism is not one thing, but rather it is created in the encounter between the sources, our values, time, and place. Therefore, there is nothing more traditional than to innovate.

Therefore, when we hear about people or rabbis who allow themselves to divide, incite, speak out harshly, and harm entire populations, "in the name of Judaism"—it's worthwhile for us to remember that alongside all of this, or in opposition to all of this, another Judaism has always grown and is growing here again: a moderate, inclusive, loving, embracing, and democratic Judaism. A Judaism that updates its values, as it has done for thousands of years—for time and space, a Judaism that goes hand-in-hand with democracy and the values of the Declaration of Independence, not in contradiction to them.

There is a struggle here for the character of society, for the character of Judaism, for our character.

And what's interesting about this struggle is that the line separating the camps isn't where we thought it was. Because it's not a struggle between religious and secular, not left and right, nor between Orthodox and liberal.
  But between those who believe there is only one way and no other, and this is their way, and between those who believe that tolerance, inclusion, and multiplicity of voices are the essence of Judaism. This division is not
The conventional division, and recently we're seeing that it also allows for the creation of fruitful, creative, and hopeful coalitions and collaborations.

This struggle is of paramount importance, but the way we—and many other partners—choose to fight is by building and fostering a Judaism that unites and loves, by building communities that celebrate, learn, and work to improve society out of a deep commitment to our heritage.

Our work together here, within the framework of an Israeli house of prayer, is part of this struggle in which we are all participating, and is proof that there is hope for Israeli Judaism.

Shabbat Shalom.