Arabs kick in the synagogue's windows. 

They take a sledgehammer to the pillars. 

Hoards overrun the place with bloodthirsty shrieks. 

In the name of G‑d.
In the name of national pride.
In the name of the future.

You can only steal once, goes the saying.  But if you want to rob another more than enrich yourself, once is all you need.  No one can rejoice for the Arabs.  Nothing has improved for them; history indicates that nothing will.  The anti-Semitism, the anti-Israel, the anti-West vitriol and violence they export comes from a will to destroy what another has.  Were it the desire to have one's own, pride of ownership would triumph bloodlust destruction.

Why does the world tolerate it?  Why do we allow a philosophical tilt-of-the-head 'but they too have a claim'?  Because on some subliminal, unrealized level, it is preferable to knock someone else's accomplishments than to create our own. 

In the rare, rare, less than once-in-seventy-years case that a Torah court would find a person punishable by death, the Torah tells us that they should hang.  But not overnight; this would diminish the divine image of the hanged.  He created us in His image; we are his reflection, even when we are deserving of death.  Diminishing our dignity denies His Divinity.

A bomb goes off and carnage follows.  Before the terrified shrieks taper off, before the medics finish evacuating the victims, but after having seen to the wounded, a group of men begins collecting the body parts.  Limbs occasionally, more often bloody bits of flesh and cartilage, expertly identified and meticulously scraped from walls tree branches and gutters.  The gruesomeness is in the details.  So is the dignity.

Many call it the ultimate contrast, if not the ultimate response, to the so-called suicide bombings. 

A man or a woman who believes life must end, their own and someone else's, fills and slips into a vest holding 15 kg of chlorate, sugar and 3mm steel ball bearings to blow up unsuspecting women and children. 

A man or a woman gathers the bits of flesh which moments ago harbored a soul; because though the soul is gone the body still reflects the image of G‑d

Understandably, there are those who demand the destruction of mosques in retaliation - and it is not necessarily Jews who make the indignant, though not necessarily unreasonable, demand. 

Perhaps we should abide them.

Then again, perhaps we should leave the mosques standing: leave them enough rope to hang their culture of death on the gallows that not long ago accommodated Nazism and Communism. 

But then, perhaps, there will be no one left to take down the corpse. 

And the image of the Divine would be defaced.

Like it or not, people are influenced by their surroundings.  And people influence their surroundings.  There are no vacuums.  Either they're with us or we are with them.  Either the light unto the nations illuminates all or a shadow darkens every space and every corner.

The curious ask: according to Jewish belief, when Moshiach comes to rebuild the Temple will he first destroy the mosque that now occupies that land?  The question shows just how remote Moshiach is.  If Moshiach were to blow up or burn down a building then he would just be one more conqueror in a city that has known more conquest than any other. 

Worse yet, he too would be conquerable.

The very name of Moshiach intimates that those who most strongly advocate the mosque will be the first to recognize the inappropriateness. 

And they will act appropriately.
In the name of G‑d.
In the name of the future.

These words sound outlandishly, ridiculously remote as I tap them on the keyboard, and I'm sure they don't come across any more credibly as you read them.  Point taken that Moshiach is not yet here.

The image of heartbroken people leaving their dreams, but refusing to kill or maim those who led them away, remains a year after it happened.  They were debased, but the image within them shone.  That shining can never dim. 

Such is the mandate of the faith to believe. 

And such is the mandate to believe with perfect faith, that ultimately it will shine to the extent that all existence will only accentuate it. 

And such is the mandate of the faith that it can - and will - happen today. 

Strengthen my faith for me, will you?