Last week, I moderated a panel of interfaith leaders fighting antisemitism and supporting Israel as part of the American Muslim and Multifaith Women’s Empowerment Council’s conference. The Talmud says that “Because of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, Yerushalayim was destroyed” (Gittin 55b). Famously, a man threw a party and invited his enemy Bar Kamtza, when he had meant to invite his friend, Kamtza. Because of the name mixup, the host of the party was furious and kicked out Bar Kamtza.

Bar Kamtza offered to pay the host for his food or to even pay for the whole party if the host would just let him stay. But the host refused. Bar Kamtza was kicked out, and the rabbis who saw this happen did nothing to stop it. In rage about his embarrassment, Bar Kamtza went straight to the Roman emperor and informed on the Jews, saying they were rebelling. This was the beginning of the end for us. It might have seemed like a passing moment without consequences, but we live with this sin today. And our tradition pinpoints this story as our downfall. Why? Because instead of being loving, accessible and empathetic, the laypeople and the rabbis were exclusionary, callous, cruel and had baseless hatred.

This is the theme of the Three Weeks, the Nine Days, and Tisha b’Av — the current season in the Jewish calendar when we mourn the destruction of the Temples and the suffering of our people throughout history. It is a time when we take responsibility for our own baseless hatred, or sinat chinam, and the evil we contribute to in this world. And yet, especially when we experience modern-day suffering and hatred against us, it can be all the more complex to internalize the mournful and redemptive work that our calendar instructs. For the one who struggles with this, what can be said?

The Antidote to Baseless Hatred

Rabbi Mel Gottlieb, a friend and colleague from Los Angeles who notably founded the Academy for Jewish Religion California, an interdenominational Jewish learning institute, writes in his sefer, Torah Travels: “A path of redemption for sinat chinam, [baseless hatred] is the path of Rav Abraham Isaac HaCohen Kook, of the Chafetz Chaim, of the Ibn Ezra, of the Netziv. They all say that the antidote to sinat chinam is ahavat chinam; hatred for no good reason must be replaced by loving for the sake of love.”

“The heart must be filled with love for all. The love of all creation comes first, then comes the love for all humankind… It must embrace every single individual regardless of differences.” Rav Abraham Isaac Kook, Middot haRayah 1:2

Rabbi Gottlieb quotes this teaching of Rav Kook: it must be expressed in practical actions, by pursuing the welfare of those we are bidden to love and seeking their advancement. It is essential to understand the characteristics and lifestyles of different groups and nations to know how to base our love of humanity on foundations that will readily translate themselves into action. The narrow-mindedness that leads one to view whatever is outside a particular nation as defiling, Rav Kook warns, is a phase of darkness that undermines the effort to reach that state of spiritual development whose dawn is awaited by every sensitive spirit.

A Room Transformed

Last week, I moderated a panel of interfaith leaders fighting antisemitism and supporting Israel as part of the American Muslim and Multifaith Women’s Empowerment Council’s conference. I have had a long friendship of over twelve years with Anila Ali — its leader, who is also spearheading the anti-BDS Muslim opposition to Zohran Mamdani. I had the privilege of joining the conference on behalf of Gratz College and Neshama: Association of Jewish Chaplains, who were both among the many supportive cosponsors.

This year’s conference had an added depth that somehow exceeded last year’s inaugural gathering. It came from direct testimonies from Muslims, Christians and multifaith leaders who had been raised with sinat chinam for Jews — some hating Israel and celebrating terrorists as martyrs — who were now courageously supporting Israel and the Jewish people. Over the past six months to two and a half years, they had been led on trips to Israel by AMMWEC, Anila Ali, Sheikh Musa Drammeh, Zebunnesa Zeba Zubair and fellow courageous Muslim and interfaith leaders.

Who was there? A social media influencer who grew up glorifying Muslim martyrs. A Palestinian Christian priest who sought asylum in America after he publicly supported Israel. An Arab journalist who was shocked at how welcomed his Pakistani passport was at Ben Gurion Airport, knowing that his passport explicitly prohibits Israelis from entering his country. Reflecting on his experience of Shabbat in Israel, this same journalist remarked that he must have been a Jew in another life.

“I must have been a Jew in another life.” An Arab journalist, reflecting on Shabbat in Israel

What stayed with me was the humility they each had in sharing how their hearts and minds completely changed. They went from believing the baseless hatred that antisemitism has taught throughout history, to loving Jews and Israel so much that here they were in Washington, D.C., going against everything they knew, at their own peril, to share their testimony of the goodness they discovered and the evil they were rejecting. They were proud religious Muslims, Christians, Sikhs and others who embodied the words of Isaiah that we read on Shabbat Chazon: “Learn to do good, seek justice, strengthen the robbed, perform justice for the orphan, plead the case of the widow” (Isaiah 1:17).

Imitating an Ancient Model

I, along with the diverse Jews and Israelis in the room, felt surrounded by what I can only describe as ahavat chinam. It was an ahavat chinam transformed from sinat chinam — the same love Rav Kook and the Gemara challenge us to embody at this time of year. What was amazing is that, over and over again, the speakers identified it as a love they were imitating from the Jewish tradition, inspired by the model of Avraham Avinu, our shared father Abraham.

Representing Pakistan in a speech given in Urdu, the Honorable Imam Sajjad Ahmed Tanoli said that as the world faces the challenges of hatred, prejudice, and religious extremism, humanity must revive the legacy of Prophet Abraham, peace be upon him — a legacy rooted in monotheism, but also in ethics, justice, peace and service to humanity, in support of mutual respect and positive dialogue for all people.

My hope is that in knowing such love exists, we can more readily give it to other Jews and all of humanity. It’s the love we are called to cultivate during the Nine Days, and always. It is the antidote to the Bar Kamtza story.

In 2026, few of us look for ahavat chinam amongst our Muslim neighbors. And I cannot think of a more extreme and apt example than what I witnessed.

Rabbanit Alissa Thomas-Newborn, BCC

Rabbanit Alissa Thomas-Newborn is the Director of Spiritual Care Studies at Gratz College, a chaplain at NewYork-Presbyterian Columbia University Irving Medical Center and Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital of New York, and the rabbanit of Congregation Netivot Shalom in Teaneck, NJ.