This past weekend, our country was shaken by the brutal assassination of Imam Muhsin Hendricks, a man whose very existence represented the intersection of faith and identity in a world that too often demands conformity.
His murder was not just an attack on one individual, but a horrifying reminder of the consequences of intolerance, hate, and the failure to embrace the diversity that strengthens us all.
As a rabbi, I know that faith traditions are complex, rich with texts and teachings that can be interpreted in different ways. But at their core, they are meant to be sources of love, peace, and justice.
Every major religious tradition contains a call to honour the dignity of every human being, to uplift rather than oppress, and to use our voices — never violence — to express our beliefs and navigate our differences.
And yet, too often, faith is distorted into a weapon rather than a wellspring of compassion. It is used to divide rather than unite, to shame rather than uplift, to punish rather than to heal.
Chilling example
The murder of Imam Muhsin is a chilling example of what happens when ideology turns to extremism, when disagreement turns to dehumanisation, and when words are abandoned in favour of guns.
In the wake of this tragedy, we must recommit ourselves to building a society in which disagreements do not breed violence, where differences are not met with destruction, and where religious belief is not an excuse for persecution.
We must reaffirm that inclusivity is not a threat, but a strength, that diversity is not a weakness, but a gift, and that the measure of our faith is not how rigidly we enforce doctrine, but how deeply we extend compassion.
To my fellow faith leaders, I say this: we have a sacred responsibility. We must teach that our traditions call us not to hatred, but to understanding.
Celebrating the richness of human experience
We must model a faith that does not seek uniformity, but celebrates the richness of human experience.
We must ensure that no person — whether an imam, a rabbi or faith leader of any kind — ever fears for their life because of who they are, what they teach or what they believe.
To all who are grieving, to all who feel the weight of this violence: you are not alone. Your pain is our pain. Your fight for dignity is our fight.
And together, we will stand against the forces of hatred with the greatest power we have — our words, our love, and our unwavering commitment to justice.
May Imam Muhsin’s memory be a blessing, and may it spur us to create a world where faith is a force for peace, not for violence. DM