The religious tension over historical sites in Jerusalem has been simmering for hundreds of years. As an Israeli American who visits frequently, I have often witnessed first-hand the nuanced and complex nature of this conflict. But during a trip in early 2023 (before the current war began), I experienced a beautiful and powerful moment of coexistence.   

I stood on the Tayelet of Jerusalem facing the Kotel while leading my class in Maariv, watching the Old City sky light up with Shabbat ruach [spirit]. As I began the repetition of the Amidah aloud, I heard the Muslim call to prayer begin to ring out. Standing in one of the holiest cities in the world, I immersed myself in my nightly Jewish prayers when the hauntingly beautiful adhan resonated through the air. The simultaneous presence of two distinct yet intertwined faiths struck me with a profound sense of unity that I had never truly grasped before.  

At that moment, the distinction between people of differing beliefs seemed to fade away. I felt connected not just to my own Jewish heritage but to a larger tapestry of spirituality and devotion shared across cultures. This experience opened my eyes to the overlapping rhythms of religious life in Jerusalem, a place where history, faith, and humanity intersect in extraordinary ways. Especially now, in light of the ongoing conflict, the rarity and fragility of such peaceful overlap resonates even more deeply. 

As I recited my personal tfillah for peace, I felt God’s presence reverberating around the walls of the Holy City. Standing in a historic site where women are traditionally excluded from leadership roles, I felt as though God was validating and encouraging my power as a Jewish woman. Jerusalem is a place of not only inter-religious friction but also conflicts between denominations within Judaism. As the Jewish quarter of Jerusalem is dominated by traditionally Orthodox Jews, my tfillah experience gave me a new understanding of coexistence.   

That moment gave me a lens through which I see the world differently—a reminder of the beauty in diversity and the potential for harmony even amidst complexity. I carry that memory with me as a source of hope and perspective, especially as the war has gone on for over 400 days, inspiring me to seek understanding and empathy in all areas of life. As a proud Zionist and supporter of an inclusive Jewish state, I believe in a future of peace where our stories can overlap, just as they did during Maariv over a year ago. 

As the war continues, I frequently return to the Women Wage Peace mission statement, “peace is not a utopia.” The organization, which has no political affiliation, brings together women of different backgrounds; this counters the common belief that differing political opinions conflict with achieving peace. As my personal hope dwindles with each life lost and each deal proposal rejected, I am inspired by the Israeli and Palestinian women who continue pursuing peace.  

Vivian Silver (z”l) was one of the co-founders of the Women Wage Peace organization. A native Canadian and life-long peace activist, Silver was admired by many around the world, including Palestinians and Israelis. Her work particularly focused on giving women the platform and authority to help lead peace developments in the Middle East. Silver was a member of Kibbutz Be’eri, where she was deeply loved by all regardless of their stance on her work. On October 7, Silver spoke for a radio interview from her safe room, emphasizing the urgent need for a peace deal. Tragically, despite her deep-rooted mission for peace, Silver was brutally murdered by Hamas terrorists on October 7.  

Instead of reacting with hatred, Vivian Silver’s son, Yonatan, has channeled his grief into advocacy, carrying on his mother’s legacy. In response to seeing the remains of Silver’s home, Yonatan said, “Another person could come here and say this is the reason to kill Palestinians. I stand here and say this is the reason to fight for peace.” As I continue pursuing my Zionist and feminist advocacy amidst the current hatred, I channel Yonatan’s words, alongside the hope I felt two years ago while leading Maariv.