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The representative for Iran's Jewish community in Parliament said Israel "showed no mercy... during the Jewish holidays and attacked one of our ancient and holy synagogues."
US-Israeli airstrikes early Tuesday morning reduced a synagogue in Tehran to rubble, according to local reports and footage posted to social media.
The Iranian newspaper Shargh reported on Tuesday that the Rafi-Nia Synagogue, which it described as “one of the most important places for Khorasan Jews to gather and celebrate,” was “completely destroyed” as the US and Israel launched attacks across the city.
Iran's semi-official Mehr news agency reported that the temple was hit when the residential building next door was attacked. Attacks across Iran overnight reportedly killed more than a dozen people.
A video shows Rabbi Younes Hammami Lalezar, a leader of the country's Jewish community, walking amongst the still-smoking wreckage with emergency response teams. Other photos show Hebrew-language prayer books scattered among the rubble.
Rafi-Nia is one of about 100 synagogues in Iran, including 30 in Tehran, that serve as houses of worship for Iran's Jewish community, the largest in the Middle East outside Israel. The attack came on the sixth day of the Passover holiday.
“The Zionist regime showed no mercy towards this community during the Jewish holidays and attacked one of our ancient and holy synagogues,” said Homayoun Sameyah Najafabadi, the Jewish community's representative in the Iranian Parliament. “Unfortunately, during this attack, the synagogue building was completely destroyed, and Torah scrolls remain under the rubble.”
While it's the first report of a synagogue being destroyed since the war was launched on February 28, dozens of other religious and historical sites have been damaged and destroyed by US-Israeli bombings.
Israel has denied responsibility for the attack, with an unnamed official telling The Times of Israel that "Israel doesn’t target synagogues."
A separate statement from the office of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said: “Iran is firing missiles at civilians, Israel is striking terror infrastructure. Missiles on civilians versus precision strikes on terror targets. That’s the difference.”
The comments echoed earlier denials from the US and Israel after a school in Minab, Iran, was one of the first targets of the bombing campaign, killing 168 people, including more than 100 children. The US couldn't have been behind the attack, said Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, because “the only side that targets civilians is Iran.”
US investigators later found evidence that the US was behind the attack.
According to the Human Rights Activist Network, a US-based human rights monitor for Iran, at least 1,665 civilians, including 248 children, have been killed in US and Israeli strikes since the war began more than a month ago.
Similar to the destruction of Israel's US-backed war on Gaza, tens of thousands of civilian buildings, including homes, hospitals, schools, and religious sites, have been damaged or destroyed, according to the United Nations Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR).
The synagogue attack also comes after US President Donald Trump threatened on Easter Sunday to target civilian infrastructure in Iran, including bridges and power plants, and said he was “considering blowing everything up” in Iran if it did not negotiate to reopen the Strait of Hormuz.
On Tuesday, Trump issued his most explicitly genocidal threat yet, saying that if Iran did not negotiate, a "whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again."
Iran’s minister of culture and Islamic guidance, Abbas Salehi, said that "damage and destruction of the Jewish synagogue building in central Tehran is bitter and distressing.”
“The American-Zionist warmongers have targeted religious sites and Iran’s civilizational heritage. For them, it makes no difference whether one is Muslim, Christian, or Jewish,” he said. "They have targeted the Iranian people, but Iran will remain, and they will be gone."
Najafabadi accused Israel of using “Judaism as a pretext to legitimize their actions,” and accused them of targeting the synagogue “in light of the [Iranian Jewish] community’s firm stance in condemning the regime’s actions and its anti-Zionist positions.”
In a historical moment where Jewish identity is facing political and moral division, the inquisitive nature of the Four Children can inspire a new generation of Jewish families to question what we have been told about Palestinians in Gaza.
During the Passover seder, Jewish families recall our cultural yearning for freedom and liberation through storytelling and asking questions. This week, families across the Jewish world will gather to retell an ancient story, connecting with ancestors who passed on to us a generations-old struggle for justice and peace.
But what makes this night different from all other nights? This Passover, Jewish communities will continue to witness a rupture over Israel’s actions in Gaza, while Israel’s attacks on Iran and Lebanon will surely generate new questions. But, unlike the Four Children, or the child reciting, “Mah Nishtana,” many Jewish children will have their questions left unanswered.
By exploring what the Four Children might ask in this moment, and offering answers aligned to our Jewish values, we honor rather than shy away from the Jewish tradition of asking questions.
The wise one, what does he say? “What are the testimonies, the statutes, and the laws which the LORD, our God, has commanded you?” And you shall tell him the laws of Pesach.
If we truly want to honor our traditions and values, we must not shy away from difficult questions.
The wise child asks, “What are the testimonies of Palestinians in Gaza? What are the international laws that nations follow? What are the Jewish ethics which our ancestors have passed to us?”
When the wise child asks for testimony, you must share the countless firsthand accounts of Palestinians in Gaza who have endured deteriorating conditions and cruelty at the hands of the Israeli military.
When the child asks for statutes, you must guide them to United Nations reports, International Court of Justice cases, and International Criminal Court investigations that provide evidence of war crimes and genocide.
When the wise child asks for laws, you must show how our Jewish texts instruct us to value all life, command us against standing “idly by the blood of another,” and teach us to honor each soul as a universe.
The wicked one, what does he say? “What is this service to you?” He says, “to you,” but not to him. By thus excluding himself from the community he has denied that which is fundamental.
The wicked child asks, “Why do they deserve this?” “They,” the child says, and not Palestinians, not families, not human beings. When the child excludes others from humanity, they exclude themself. You must call them in and say, “we must stand with Palestinians facing genocide in Gaza.” “We,” and not, “I,” for our safety is intertwined.
The simple one, what does he say? “What is this?”
The simple child asks, “What is this?” What is the truth about Gaza?” He hears opposing narratives in the news, on his phone, and in his Jewish community. He hears Zionists describe the people who live in Gaza as terrorists, animals, and other dehumanizing labels justifying collective punishment. He sees another reality, a mosaic of humanity–children, doctors, journalists, and families– experiencing profound grief and suffering.
The simple child is confused, and we must direct him to seek truth and act in alignment with his Jewish values: Never again means never again for anyone.
As for the one who does not know how to ask, you must open [the story] for him [...]
And for the child who doesn’t know how to ask, you must open a path for them to question the narratives that Zionists tell of Palestinians in Gaza, just as Jewish culture teaches us to question, challenge, and debate our traditions and worldviews.
Passover is a testament to the power of retelling stories that resonate across generations. The Four Children, a key part of the Passover haggadah, have always acted as archetypes of Jewish engagement. In a historical moment where Jewish identity is facing political and moral division, the inquisitive nature of the Four Children can inspire a new generation of Jewish families to question what we have been told about Palestinians in Gaza.
If we truly want to honor our traditions and values, we must not shy away from difficult questions. Nor should our answers ignore the parts of our tradition that teach us to prioritize life, to love the stranger, and to challenge our worldviews. Our children deserve nothing less.
On Wednesday night, Jews sat down to the Passover seder and retold the story of how our ancestors, once welcomed into Egypt as refugees, were enslaved by a Pharaoh fearful of losing power. This year, it sounds like the news.
An authoritarian ruler seeks to consolidate his own power by stirring up fear about an immigrant population.
“These people are not like us,” he declares. “They are a potential fifth column, likely to join with our enemies and destroy us from within!” “We can keep ourselves safe only by controlling and oppressing them.”
On Wednesday night, Jews sat down to the Passover seder and retold the ancient story of how our ancestors, once welcomed into Egypt as refugees from famine, were enslaved by a Pharaoh fearful of losing power, and ultimately liberated through divine and human actions.
The Passover story has been retold in Jewish homes for millennia. This year, the ancient story tragically sounds like today’s news.
Now, the Supreme Court is considering overturning a core principle that once allowed those fleeing violence and oppression, my own great grandparents included, to find refuge in the United States.
President Donald Trump built his election campaign around stirring up fear of immigrants, refugees, and asylum-seekers, and, over the past year, has ramped up detentions and deportations, canceled temporary protected status for nationals of multiple countries, flooded major American cities with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents, and flouted US policy and international law by deporting people to third countries.
All these actions have been undertaken with intense cruelty. Families have been divided; mothers tackled in airports, on the streets, and in their homes; and people sent to prisons and to nations where they have no connections.
Now, the Supreme Court is considering overturning a core principle that once allowed those fleeing violence and oppression, my own great grandparents included, to find refuge in the United States.
The justices are deliberating on Noem vs. Al Otro Lado, which will determine the constitutionality of the US government’s policy of physically blocking asylum-seekers from presenting themselves at ports of entry along the Mexican border. Longstanding US law requires the government to allow asylum-seekers to request asylum at ports of entry, and to give these claims a fair hearing.
Instead, the US has been preventing asylum-seekers from even making a claim and instead forcing them back to Mexico, where they are often stranded without shelter, adequate food, or protection from violence.
All of the current Supreme Court justices identify as either Christian, mostly Catholic, or Jewish. We hope they look to our shared scripture as they consider their rulings.
The Torah commands the retelling of the story of slavery and liberation, and also specifies what lessons should be learned from this experience. “You shall not wrong or oppress the ger,” God commands, “for you were gerim in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 22:20). The word ger (plural: gerim) most likely refers to a person who came from somewhere else to live among the Jewish people—in other words, an immigrant or a stranger. Versions of this directive appear 36 times in the Torah.
As God established a lasting covenant with the Jewish people, God also laid out a series of laws aimed at establishing a just society. Central among these are the commandments regarding just treatment of the ger, who “...should be treated equally under the law.” (Numbers 15:15)
God, Godself, cares for immigrants just as God cared for the Jewish people during the period of their slavery in Egypt. “[God] loves the ger, and gives them food and clothing.” (Deuteronomy 10:18) Acting as God acts demands not only protecting immigrants from oppression, but actively caring for their needs.
The Torah also offers a negative example of a society whose cruelty toward immigrants, travelers, and others in need condemns it to destruction. The evil city of Sodom is notorious for its inhospitality toward visitors. “This was the sin of your sister Sodom,” the prophet Ezekiel declares, “She and her daughters had plenty of bread and untroubled tranquility, yet they did not support the poor and the needy.” (Ezekiel 16:49)
The Talmud goes on to tell the story of one brave young woman who regularly sneaks food to a person in need, only to be tortured and killed once she is discovered.
These are the issues at stake in Noem vs. Al Otro Lado. When US officials turn asylum-seekers away at the border, rather than allowing them to plead their case, they are no different from the officials in Sodom who decreed, “Let us abolish the practice of traveling in our land.”
I've personally seen Jewish and other religious communities living out these ancient teachings. At the end of January, nearly 100 rabbis who are members of T’ruah, the organization I lead, half of whom live and work in Minnesota and half from out of state, joined some 600 other clergy to protest ICE in the Twin Cities.
These religious leaders are following the path that God has laid out, refusing to tolerate fearmongering or oppression of immigrants, and insisting on treating all people—whether born in the United States or elsewhere—justly, and according to a single legal code. The justices should do the same.