By Rabbi Jamie Korngold
Yesterday, the world shifted. Israel struck Iran’s nuclear facilities, taking bold and decisive action to protect its people. They targeted senior military leaders, nuclear scientists, long-range missiles, and air defenses—knowing that some facilities remain hidden deep underground, unreachable for now. In the coming days, we’ll learn how much was accomplished. But make no mistake—this was a moment of profound consequence.
Why now? Because we had no more time. Despite years of negotiations—despite promises and red lines—Iran was reportedly just days away from building a nuclear bomb. And they’ve never hidden what they’d do with it. Again and again, they’ve declared their intent: to wipe Israel off the map.
We can hope that this is the beginning of the end for the regime in Tehran. Maybe—just maybe—this will be the blow that brings it down, freeing not only the Iranian people from brutal oppression but also offering new hope for peace in the region. It’s too soon to know. But it is not too soon to hope.
And we can’t ignore this truth: in this world, people still hate Jews—just for being Jews. Whether we live in Israel or in the United States, we carry that fear. Our Shabbat services require security guards. Our college students face harassment simply for wearing a Star of David. We have seen how quickly hate spreads, how ancient prejudice finds new language, and how words of hate lead to violent actions. And we know that when someone says they want to destroy us—we must believe them.
We must remember who this regime is. This is the same government that funded Assad’s war on his own people—over 600,000 Muslims killed. That arms Hezbollah and the Houthis. That shouts “Death to America” and “Death to Israel” and has dragged out talks for years while secretly moving forward with its deadly ambitions.
Last night, I was on WhatsApp with my family in Israel. Maybe you were too, texting, checking in, trying to distract your young Israeli cousins with silly jokes or talk about better days. Just letting them know: You’re not alone. We are with you.
I’m proud of Israel’s courage. I’m heartbroken that it had to come to this. I wish—deeply wish—that we lived in a world where missiles weren’t necessary. Where leaders chose peace. Where children didn’t wake up to the sound of sirens. But this is our world. And in this world, I stand with Israel—with all my heart, with all my soul, and with all my strength.
The article’s emphasis on the urgency of confronting Iran’s nuclear program—and the acknowledgment that some facilities remain deep underground—captures both the scale and uncertainty of this moment. I hope the discussion also keeps civilian safety and the broader regional consequences at the center.
The article captures the gravity of Israel’s decision, especially the reality that some nuclear facilities remain deep underground and beyond immediate reach. I hope any discussion of this “moment of profound consequence” also keeps civilian safety and the risk of wider regional escalation at the center.
The phrase “because we had no more time” captures the urgency behind the decision, but the reality of hidden facilities and uncertain results also underscores how difficult this path will be. I hope the coming days bring clarity while minimizing civilian suffering and keeping diplomacy open.