What kind of world are we leaving our grandchildren? My fellow grandparents, For more than fifty years, I served as a Jewish clergyman. Now, as an emeritus, I find myself spending a great deal of time with my five grandchildren listening to their questions, amazed by their infinite curiosity, their overwhelming, undeterred protectiveness… something only a grandparent truly understands. Perhaps that is why the increasing reports of antisemitic acts and of hatred in so many unrelenting forms trouble me so deeply. After a lifetime of witnessing what prejudice can do to individuals and communities, I cannot help but wonder: Will grandparents from every walk of life raise their voices when hatred threatens the world our grandchildren will inherit? If we don’t speak out for that world, who will? We grandparents have lived long enough to understand that a person’s past actions often reveal far more than carefully chosen words. We have seen promises made and broken. We have watched people respond when they are under pressure, when they have power, and when someone vulnerable is placed in their path. We have learned that character is not what a person says about themselves. It is what they repeatedly do. That lesson matters especially now. We live in an age of one-sided documentaries, viral clips, social-media posts, and an endless stream of monotonous commentary. The most attention-grabbing story is not necessarily the most important one, and what is most visible is not necessarily w
What kind of world are we leaving our grandchildren?
My fellow grandparents,
For more than fifty years, I served as a Jewish clergyman. Now, as an emeritus, I find myself spending a great deal of time with my five grandchildren listening to their questions, amazed by their infinite curiosity, their overwhelming, undeterred protectiveness… something only a grandparent truly understands.
Perhaps that is why the increasing reports of antisemitic acts and of hatred in so many unrelenting forms trouble me so deeply. After a lifetime of witnessing what prejudice can do to individuals and communities, I cannot help but wonder: Will grandparents from every walk of life raise their voices when hatred threatens the world our grandchildren will inherit?
If we don’t speak out for that world, who will?
We grandparents have lived long enough to understand that a person’s past actions often reveal far more than carefully chosen words. We have seen promises made and broken. We have watched people respond when they are under pressure, when they have power, and when someone vulnerable is placed in their path. We have learned that character is not what a person says about themselves. It is what they repeatedly do.
That lesson matters especially now.
We live in an age of one-sided documentaries, viral clips, social-media posts, and an endless stream of monotonous commentary. The most attention-grabbing story is not necessarily the most important one, and what is most visible is not necessarily what is most true. If we are serious about the future our grandchildren will inherit, we owe them something better than decisions based on whatever happens to flash across a screen.
We owe them the effort to examine evidence. We owe them the willingness to look at a person’s history, character, judgment, and conduct, not simply their promises. When hatred is directed at one group, we should understand that history teaches us an uncomfortable truth: indifference to hatred rarely keeps hatred confined to its original target.
We also have a responsibility to teach our children and grandchildren to think beyond the moment. That does not mean pretending that we can predict the future. It means giving them perspective: understanding how today’s choices can ripple forward for decades; how societies are strengthened or weakened over generations; and how responsibility extends beyond the next election, the next news cycle, or the next political victory.
If we want our grandchildren to inherit a world shaped by wisdom rather than impulse, we must model that wisdom ourselves.
So when I vote in November, I return to one simple question:
Would I trust this person to babysit my grandchildren?
Would I trust their judgment? Their temperament? Their treatment of people who are vulnerable or different from themselves? Would I trust them to make difficult decisions when no easy answer exists?
If the answer is no. if their behavior, judgment, or character would keep me from leaving them alone with the people I love most, then why would I entrust them with decisions that will help shape those same children’s future?
This is not about expecting perfection from our leaders. None of us is perfect. It is about recognizing the difference between a mistake and a pattern, between an imperfect person and a dangerous character, between a promise and a record.
After more than fifty years of Jewish religious service, I have learned that the values we proclaim mean very little unless we are willing to live by them when doing so is difficult.
Now as a grandfather, I see that responsibility in an even more personal way.
Our grandchildren will live with the consequences of the choices made today.
They deserve a world in which hatred is confronted, and wisdom is valued over impulse.
They deserve grandparents and parents courageous enough to help build that world.
We can hug them today and make them feel safe for a moment but our responsibility is larger than the embrace of today.
We must work to leave them a world in which that feeling of safety can endure for the rest of their precious lives.
As founder of Destination Peace, I carry the lessons of generations of grandparents forward to remind us that peace begins in how we choose to pass down our legacies of values and then share them with our neighbors.
