October 7th — Familiar?

There are dates that shake the world.
But some don’t just belong to the calendar.
They belong to a pattern.

October 7th, 2023—the day Hamas unleashed horror on innocent Israeli civilians—wasn’t just a modern-day massacre.
It was a repetition.
A reappearance of something ancient.
Familiar.

That day didn’t come out of nowhere.
It came from the same place that plotted in Persia,
the same place that raged in Nazi Germany,
the same place that chants in the streets today: “From the river to the sea…”

The Spirit of Hate Has a History

You may call him Haman, or Hitler, or Hamas.
But the spirit is the same.

It wears different uniforms.
Speaks different languages.
Claims different grievances.
But its target is always the same: the Jewish people.

It’s the spirit that hates covenant,
that despises chosenness,
that fears a people whose survival defies history itself.

From Pharaoh to Haman, from pogroms to the Holocaust, from rockets to terror tunnels—this spirit always rises when truth is ignored, when lies are repeated, and when silence becomes complicity.

It Didn’t Start With Hamas. It Won’t End There Either.

This is bigger than politics.
It’s spiritual.

Because if you can dehumanize Jews—if you can normalize hating them—you can destroy the moral compass of an entire generation.

And that’s exactly what the spirit of Haman does:
It distorts. It demonizes.
And it convinces people that evil is justice, and murder is resistance.

So Yes—October 7th Is Familiar.

It’s familiar to every Jewish soul who has ever hidden in a ghetto, a cave, or a bunker.
It’s familiar to every family who whispered prayers under threat of annihilation.
It’s familiar to every Esther who stood trembling in front of power,
knowing silence could cost lives.

But Here’s What That Spirit Doesn’t Understand:

Jews don’t disappear.
They don’t dissolve.
They rise.

They rebuild.
They sing in the ashes.
They write Torah with trembling hands and hopeful hearts.

Because what the spirit of hate never learns—what Haman never understood—is that the Jewish people are not simply surviving.
They are anchored in promise.

And What About Us?

We who are not Jewish, but hear the call to stand?
We have a choice.

We can either echo the silence of history…
or break it.

We can either turn away because it’s “complicated”…
or lean in because it’s right.

We can either pretend this is just a political issue…
or recognize it for what it is: a spiritual war against a people loved by God.