Since the Global Sumud Flotilla launched in late summer, as an international, civil society–led maritime initiative to peacefully break the Israeli blockade of the Gaza Strip, David Adler, the co–general coordinator of the Progressive International and a flotilla participant, has been communicating with the world via texts and direct messages. On Tuesday, as the more than 40 vessels came within 200 miles from the coast of Gaza and Israel, and faced warnings that they would be intercepted by the Israeli navy, it began to look as if the flotilla could arrive on Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar. David reflected on this prospect in a letter that he shared on social media and that is published here. He told me, “This is my final letter from the Global Sumud Flotilla before our likely interception—timed, by coincidence, to the arrival of Yom Kippur. This coincidence, however, is an opportunity—to connect with my fellow Jews across the United States and around the world, and to bring them into the flotilla’s mission of tikkun olam.” Tikkun olam is a Jewish concept that refers to repairing the world.              —John Nichols

Today, I am writing a very personal letter to you all—a letter about what it means to me to be Jewish on a mission that is set to arrive to the “Red Zone” during Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar.

I almost never write “as a Jew.” I share the exhaustion of being forced to put Jewish feelings first—when a genocide has been committed in the name of Zionist “national interest,” and when activists have been detained, tortured, and deported in the name of our “safety.”

But today I felt compelled to write in that register—as one of the only Jews on this mission, which brings together over 500 people from more than 40 countries across the world.

I believe that the timing of our flotilla is not coincidental. On the contrary, I believe it is a blessing that we are approaching interception at the onset of Yom Kippur—our annual day of atonement—which calls on us to reflect on our sins, and what can be done to repair them in the spirit of tikkun olam.

How can we atone for what has been committed in our name? How can we seek forgiveness for sins that multiply by the hour, as bombs and bullets rain on Gaza? How could we possibly take seriously our mandate to “heal the world” when the State of Israel is so determined to destroy it?

If there’s any part of the Torah that I still remember, it is this obligation it bestows upon us: “Justice, justice you shall pursue.” How could we stand by while the State of Israel perverts this holy obligation, overseeing a holocaust of the Palestinian people?

I joined this flotilla just like any other delegate—to defend humanity, before it is too late. But on Yom Kippur, I am reminded that I am also here because my Jewish heritage demands it.

As a mere adolescent, my grandfather Jacques Adler joined the Parisian resistance against the Nazis, putting his life on the line to sabotage their operations even as his friends and family were sent to their deaths in concentration camps.

That is the tradition to which I am called, and the definition of “justice” that feels true to my Jewish identity—as the same genocidal rage that targeted my ancestors is now taken up by its principal victims.