Many of you write to me, so thanks to all of you for your insights and for your support which is very much appreciated even though I don’t always have time to respond in person.
From time to time, however, a message arrives which stands out through its power and raw emotion. Just such a message dropped into my inbox yesterday and I wanted to share it with all of you. So here’s an edited version of what this reader wrote to me.
I am currently studying Judaism and considering conversion, and I want you to know how profoundly influential you have been in that journey.
For as long as I can remember, I have held a deep admiration and fascination for Jewish people and their faith. I was baptised and raised Catholic and later attended Catholic school. I briefly explored kabbalah [Jewish mysticism] in 2008, though I have no Jewish heritage or familial connection. The draw I have felt toward Judaism has therefore seemed inexplicable — yet it has been entirely consistent.
After October 7th [the Hamas-led attack against Israel in 2023], I found myself experiencing not just sympathy but a profound sense of empathy and instinctive support for Israel. It felt personal, almost protective. Zionism seemed to me an obvious and morally coherent position.
Yet I found myself surrounded by colleagues, peers, and friends chanting slogans and repeating narratives that felt deeply at odds with my instincts. I felt out of step — countercultural, even — and questioned whether I was missing something.
So I read. I studied. And if anything, my support for Israel only deepened. Your conviction and intellectual rigour have been deeply steadying in a very disorienting time for those against the “Palestine” mob on the street.
Last year, on a train from Manchester, I witnessed an Orthodox Jewish man visiting from Tel Aviv quietly searching for a space to pray before sundown. In the ordinariness of travel, he carried with him centuries of tradition and faith. It was profoundly moving. Tragically, he had to stop several times due to abuse from other passengers, and I helped create a small measure of privacy for him.
Afterwards, he shared both wisdom and the painful reality of antisemitism he had encountered within hours of arriving in the UK. A few weeks later, leaving the Victoria and Albert museum in London, I saw a family wearing kippah subjected to similar abuse. I found myself asking: how has it become that to be visibly Jewish is now an act of bravery?
It struck me then that Jewish faith is more than ritual — it is resilience, courage, and vulnerability intertwined. To hold onto identity, history, and belief in the face of hostility is an extraordinary act of strength.
I am currently reading The Garden of Emuna [a practical guide to Jewish faith] and have found myself drawn to the beauty of modeh ani and the Shema [two Jewish prayers]. I am navigating the tensions this creates with my Christian upbringing, yet I feel a sincere desire to learn, to study, and to understand.
In my early twenties, I was politically liberal in an unexamined way — I assumed “left” meant good....and that “right” meant unfair. I recall reading your work or seeing you on BBC TV’s Question Time and instinctively disagreeing. I am no longer 20 (!!!), and I am no longer “left”.
I am also a gay man and live with my partner. We do not participate in Pride; we simply live our lives quietly with the love and support of our families. Last summer, while hosting friends visiting from America, we inadvertently found ourselves in London on Pride day. I was struck by the prominence of Palestinian flags and slogans. The dissonance was difficult to ignore. “Queers for Palestine”?
We have found ourselves increasingly out of step with what is presented as the “gay community,” particularly regarding debates around single-sex spaces. At times we have even been told that our views represent internalised homophobia — something I know not to be true. When I came out, my father said to me, “Before you are a gay man, you are a man.” I have always carried that perspective: my sexuality is part of me, but it does not define me. The LGB movement has been taken over by the trans lobby and it is truly one of the opposites to inclusion now.
Professionally, I work as an HR manager, navigating evolving EDI [equity, diversity and inclusion] strategies with professional neutrality but increasing frustration. You’ll hear EDI officers across the country talk at events about the importance of embracing kindness and inclusion — ask them about how to support a gender-critical colleague, and that kindness disappears.
On the recent podcast, you spoke about the state of England — I related to your sadness. Personally, however, I feel I am on a far deeper journey — one of identity, faith, and moral clarity.
This reader’s poignant spiritual and political voyage has caused him to navigate not just the choppy waters of religious belief and identity but also the raging torrent of bigotry, unreason and moral disintegration that is now threatening to wash away the once “sceptr’d isle” of England.
His message is a moving testament to the enduring impulse of spirituality, a touching love-letter to Judaism — and an elegy.
*** My new book The Builder’s Stone: How Jews and Christians Built the West – and Why Only They Can Save It, can be bought on amazon.com and amazon.co.uk
You can access all my blogposts on my website, melaniephillips.substack.com
|
