Violence, murder and destruction in the name of religion have become the norm. We have witnessed so much of it these past few years all over the world, including here at home. It comes in all stripes - Jewish, Christian, Muslim. It is directed against others, it is directed against one's own. It is aimed at total strangers or at specific targets. Ten years ago this November, it killed Yitzchak Rabin. I recently read a Washington Post story about a group of rabbis in Israel who were doing their utmost to prevent the Gaza withdrawal by reciting mystical incantations aimed at ending the life of Ariel Sharon. How is it possible for Judaism to be so misunderstood by such self-professed devotees? Are we supposed to feel blessed that our faith offers us so many options?

Are the life-affirming teachings of our tradition so basic, so essential, so primary as to be overlooked by the faithful? Is the instruction to "choose life" too direct and insufficiently subtle for the scholars steeped in the esoteric? Are the commandments that forbid killing too simple? What about those of other faiths? How is it that in the early days of  the 21st century religion from so many quarters comes to us as a madman?

The simple answer is: I don't know. No one does. I do know that the most basic message of Torah is that all human life is sacred - all life, the lives of those who agree with you and the lives of those who don't. Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, a world-renowned scholar, teaches that the essential lesson of rabbinic Judaism is the lesson of multiple truths, and that Talmud preserves opposing AND diverse opinions side by side in order to teach this lesson. In other words, Steinsaltz teaches, Only God is One.

In the human realm, we have difference, disagreement and diversity. The question is whether we can learn to live with it. Our ancestors, knowing this, were fanatical about just one thing: the ultimate, sacred quality of human life. You can override every mitzvah to save a life. The minute your religious voice commands you to take a life, you know you are listening to a false God. We see this unfold in Jewish thought in our Rosh Hashanah Torah portion. The God that commands Abraham to take Isaac's life is thrust aside by a different vision of God. Abraham's climb up the mountain is to a vision of a God who teaches us to save lives and preserve them. We learn to be distrustful of the one who knows "Truth" and will pursue violence to prove it.

As you read this letter, we will know how the Israeli withdrawal from Gaza proceeded. The Talmud teaches that Jerusalem fell to the Romans, not so much because of the military might of the Roman Empire, but rather because of the sinat chinam, the violent hatred among Jewish factions in ancient Israel. All the more reason that we must pray for wisdom and peace.

Our Elul project begins this month. Read the selections as they come to you each day, consider them during the week, make them the subject of your table talk on Shabbat. Consider your own Jewish life through them. Ask yourself what is essential to your own Jewish makeup? What defines it? What is the source of its meaning to you? How do you honor it? What are your own questions about the statement "I am Jewish?" Write your own response to "I am Jewish" and place it in our box in the temple lobby or e-mail it to iamjewish@templemicah.org.