At Park Av Synagogue, Rabbi Cosgrove spoke with moral clarity about October 7
Yesterday, I had the honor of attending Shabbat services at Park Avenue Synagogue on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. It was my first time there, and the experience left a strong impression.
The historic building is beautiful. Cantor Azi Schwartz, the other vocalists, and the clergy brought remarkable talent and spirit to the service. But what I most want to share is the powerful sermon delivered by the synagogue’s senior rabbi, Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove.
Rabbi Cosgrove spoke about October 7 with clarity and a deep understanding of the difficult times we are living through. He began by discussing the work of the Civil Commission on October 7 Crimes Against Women and Children, led by Dr. Cochav Elkayam-Levy. Rabbi Cosgrove had met Dr. Elkayam-Levy and described her as one of the most impressive people he had ever met. Reading passages from the Commission’s report, he emphasized our responsibility to learn the facts and keep the memory of what happened alive for generations to come.
He also spoke about New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s October 7 social media post, which he called shameful. Rabbi Cosgrove spoke out clearly and courageously.
He acknowledged the suffering of Palestinians, too. As moral people, we feel the pain of innocent people and grieve their losses. But compassion for Palestinian civilians cannot become a distraction from the stark truth of October 7.
Hearing Rabbi Cosgrove say that he hoped the bloodthirsty terrorists who took part in the massacre would be eliminated sooner rather than later was like music to my ears. It may seem like a simple sentiment, but it is unfortunately not common to hear such clear and truthful words in New York City.
Rabbi Cosgrove then connected the massacre to the week’s Torah portion, Bereishit, and the story of the first murder: Cain’s killing of Abel. He drew a line between the blood shed at the beginning of the Torah and the blood shed in Israel. I was struck by how graphically he described Abel’s murder. It was unsettling to hear, but it brought the ancient story out of the realm of abstraction. The Torah does not let us look away from the violence or forget the victim. Abel’s blood cries out from the ground. And the blood of our sisters and brothers slaughtered on October 7 calls out to us from the earth, demanding that we listen, learn, and remember.
Hearing these words in one of the most prominent Jewish communities on the East Coast gave me hope. Hope that moral clarity is still possible. Hope that compassion and truth can stand together. And hope that more voices will speak with the courage to name what happened on October 7 and keep its memory alive.
