In preparation for the High Holy Days, Sephardim began saying Selichos at the start of Elul, and Ashkenazim began on Saturday night, September 13. The Queens Jewish Link published its September 18 edition with the front page wishing “Shanah Tovah.” Throughout the paper were greetings from elected officials—Jewish and non-Jewish, religious and not—as well as from private entities, some just a few words and others more detailed.

One might have expected that most, if not all, columns would focus on Rosh HaShanah. There were the usual rabbis who write about halachah and religious topics, and a couple of others. However, three articles and two letters to the editor centered on Charlie Kirk. The titles were: “Goodbye, Charlie,” “What Charlie Kirk Meant to the World,” “West Hempstead Vigil Brings Charlie Kirk’s Legacy Close to Home,” “Charlie Kirk, Faith and a Moral Reckoning,” and “In Memory of Charlie Kirk and the Values He Championed.” Four did not mention Rosh HaShanah; the fifth added only a couple of lines at the end of a long piece. The first question is why there was so much focus on Charlie Kirk rather than Rosh HaShanah. The second is why there was so much attention to Charlie Kirk and not to the six Jews gunned down in Ramot for being identifiably Jewish. The third is whether these five writers—or others—would have written similarly if the victim had been a progressive who supported Israel and was killed in the same manner.

I think the answer to all three is that we have become so engrossed in politics that we have changed tribes. It used to be that being a member of the Jewish tribe was paramount. All Jews, regardless of background or location, were considered brothers—as one. The killing of six Jews at a bus stop, even in Israel, would have prompted deep anguish and discussion in the papers. Rosh HaShanah is a day when even Jews who are not observant the rest of the year often feel a yearning to go to shul and be part of the day. For frum Jews, it was foremost in our minds.

Now it seems the tribe we prioritize is our political tribe. Those who wrote about Charlie Kirk are clearly part of the Trump tribe—but there are other tribes. Charlie Kirk was an important member of the Trump tribe, and that is why his death was so significant to those writers. If a member of the progressive tribe had been killed in the same way—even if they supported Israel—those who wrote about Kirk likely would not have commented. If someone is not in the same political tribe, they receive no recognition.

There are practical effects to this approach. It weakens our Jewish community and fundamental Jewish values. Politics is a cesspool, with hypocrisy on both sides. Once we blindly join one team, we risk losing our values. Consider the recent controversy involving Jimmy Kimmel, who was pushed off the air under pressure from FCC Commissioner Brandon Carr. Kimmel had been on Trump’s list of people to remove. Kimmel said, “We hit some new lows over the weekend with the MAGA gang desperately trying to characterize this kid who murdered Charlie Kirk as anything other than one of them and doing everything they can to score political points from it.” This was said before the killer’s motive was known. Around the same time, Fox & Friends host Brian Kilmeade, responding to the issue of mentally ill homeless people who refuse psychiatric commitment, said, “Involuntary lethal injection, or something. Just kill ’em.” Clearly, that comment was far more revolting than what Kimmel said. Yet Commissioner Carr and others on the right who praised Kimmel’s ouster were silent. When Democrats were in power, Trump, Carr, and many on the right decried “cancel culture.” Now that Republicans are in power, they are doing the same thing under a new label—“consequence culture”—a pivot that would make George Orwell proud. Conversely, many on the left who supported cancel culture are now upset when it is used against them.

I would like to believe that engaging in these political discussions has no effect on me. Like most people, I prefer to think I am fair and open-minded. But it is naïve to assume immunity. I was among those who did not mention the victims in Ramot. I can offer an excuse—that I was writing about other important issues—but that does not excuse my failure even to mention their names. They were Levi Yitzhak Pash, 57; Yaakov Pinto, 25; Yisrael Matzner, 28; Rabbi Yosef David, 43; Rabbi Mordechai Steintzag, 79; and Sarah Mendelson, 60.

People often thank me for taking positions they wish they could say publicly but are afraid to voice. I sometimes use that to justify how much I write about politics.

Those of us obsessed with politics should spend this Yom Kippur considering whether this is the proper focus for the coming year.

Have a G’mar Chasimah Tovah and a meaningful Yom Kippur.