A Ray of Faith in Minneapolis
Before being rushed into emergency surgery for a gunshot wound to the stomach, 13-year-old Endre Gunter asked his surgeon to pause.
“Can you say a prayer with me?” he whispered, according to his aunt, Natalie Davis, who shared the moment on a fundraising page for his medical care.
The surgeon later told the family that not only did Endre survive the operation, but that his courage and faith deeply inspired the entire medical team. “That moment of prayer, and Endre’s resilience, will stay with our family forever,” Davis wrote.
Endre is one of 18 victims — most of them children — wounded on Wednesday when a shooter opened fire on a group gathered in prayer in Minneapolis to mark the first week of school.
This tragedy shakes us to our very core. How can such an unspeakable act take place — and how are we meant to respond?
Pursue Justice
This week’s Torah portion, Shoftim, opens with a clear directive:
“You shall appoint judges and officials for your tribes, in all the settlements that the Lord your G-d is giving you, and they shall govern the people with due justice” (Deuteronomy 16:18).
And it goes further:
“Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may live and possess the land the Lord your G-d is giving you” (16:20).
Here, the Torah binds together justice, faith, and moral clarity. But in the face of tragedy, the question inevitably arises: Where is G-d in all this?
Addressing the Cause
When tragedies like these reach the headlines, the initial shock and mourning are often followed by debates about contributing factors — gun violence, mental health, political divisions, and more. And indeed, we must strengthen protections for our communities and address many critical issues.
Yet, as with any problem, it is not enough to treat the symptoms. We must confront the root cause.
What drives a person to commit such an act of evil? When society loses its moral compass, and right and wrong are defined only by personal choice or shifting opinions, the result is confusion and chaos.
True prevention begins with education — teaching the sacred value of every human life. It is the recognition that each of us is created in the image of G-d, endowed with inherent dignity, purpose, and a unique mission in this world.
Likewise, justice must be more than punishment or deterrence. A system that relies solely on fear of incarceration misses the deeper goal: upholding true justice, rooted in moral clarity and the Divine value of human life.
Justice Anchored in Faith
Moments like this remind us that faith is not confined to houses of worship or religious institutions. It shapes the very foundation of morality itself. That is why, above the judge’s bench in U.S. courtrooms, the words “In G-d We Trust” are engraved — a recognition that true justice must rest on Divine truth.
The Torah teaches that the command to establish justice is not only for the Jewish people, but for all humanity, as part of the Seven Noahide Laws. Justice is the backbone of a moral world.
But according to Torah, justice is never separate from faith. Without belief in a Higher Authority, justice can become relative — shifting with culture or opinion. With faith, it is anchored in eternal truth.
The King in the Field
This is especially poignant as we begin the month of Elul, the season of preparation for the High Holidays. Elul is a month of reflection and return — but even more so, of closeness.
Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, founder of Chabad, described it with a parable: Most of the year, a king resides in his palace, distant and surrounded by protocol. To meet him requires privilege and formality. But when the king goes out into the fields, everyone can approach him directly. He greets them warmly, with a smile, and grants their requests.
So it is with G-d in Elul. Throughout the year, He is like a King in His palace. But in Elul, He goes into the field — into our daily lives — making Himself accessible to all. His closeness uplifts even those who feel distant, inspiring us to return and realign with Him. And when the High Holidays arrive, we accompany the King back to His palace, into His innermost chamber.
Some may ask: shouldn’t we seek G-d only in holy spaces — in prayer, study, or the synagogue?
Of course, those remain essential. As Maimonides taught, “The prayers of the community are always heard.” Yet the Torah also insists that G-d is present in our homes, our schools, our workplaces, and in the ordinary rhythm of life. Our task is to sanctify those spaces — to create a “dwelling place for G-d in the lowest world” (Midrash).
This is why G-d meets us in the field: because His deepest desire is to be with us, even in the ordinary and the broken.
Finding G-d Here and Now
The lesson is clear. Whether in a courtroom or a classroom, in a house of worship, in workplaces or in the hospital, G-d is there. He is waiting to be found — not only in holy spaces but in our work, our homes, and above all, within our hearts.
As we step into Elul, the month when the King is in the field, we are invited to open our hearts, pursue justice, and welcome G-d into every corner of our lives.
May this season bring clarity, healing, and peace — and may it hasten the ultimate blessing, the coming of Moshiach now when “Death shall be swallowed up forever and G‑d shall wipe the tears from every face…” (Isaiah 25:8).
