The October 7 Ripple Effect: Inherit Community Responds

17,520 hours. 730 days. 104 weeks. 24 months. 2 years. We count the days since October 7, 2023, but they don’t sound or feel right. Perhaps that's because the images of that deadly day will never leave us, or because so many of our family members are still not home. Perhaps it’s because we’re still living the horrors of that day as hatred and misinformation have fueled violence around the world.

The only way forward is through, processing the grief that weighs on us and the healing work that beckons us. That’s why we invited several Inherit contributors to reflect on this day, share the deeply personal impact it had on their lives, and explain how they maintain hope for the future, despite all odds. 

These are their stories, two years on.

Simon Stout, Jerusalem

“When I think back on the past two years and on my life in Jerusalem since October 7, emotions blur into the tohu va’vohu, a space ‘without form and void.’ One of the strangest realities of living through war is how life continues in the midst of turmoil. The world should pause until the fighting is over, but it doesn’t. Life presses forward with or without you. Birthdays come, brides and grooms stand under the chuppah, and families and friends gather around the Shabbat table every week.

These golden celebrations, filled with the beauty and sparkle of life, are tinged with a shadow of grief—grief for the thousands of innocent lives lost, for families in mourning, for hostages still in captivity after 700 days and counting. Even our delicious family meals are bittered by the guilt of knowing others are going hungry or living in fear of something greater than a weekly missile attack.

Adonai knows all, counts our tears, and is ultimately in control.

The only solace I have found (in the ever-growing storm cloud of uncertainty that is war) is in knowing that Adonai knows all, counts our tears, and is ultimately in control. God is there in the darkness. He always was and always will be. Without faith in the abundant love of the Lord, I don’t know how anyone endures in such times. That thought compels me forward when I don’t want to get out of bed to face the day. It drives me to soldier on, to love others more intentionally, and to share the hope that sustains me in such a bleak, somber, and never-ending season.”

Noa Reuveni, Tel Aviv

“If anything, October 7 has strengthened my sense of Jewish identity. That day made me realize, more than ever, that as Jews, we ultimately have only each other to rely on. I felt the depth of Jewish peoplehood in a way I never had before. The heroism, resilience, and strength of our people weren’t abstract ideas anymore; they were revealed in real time.

⁠For the larger Jewish community, October 7 was a wake-up call. It reminded us that Israel is not just a country for Israelis, it is home for every Jew. The attacks didn’t just strike Israelis, they reverberated through the entire Jewish world. The diaspora felt the aftershocks immediately as antisemitism surged to levels many thought belonged to history books, not modern headlines. It became clear—painfully clear—why Israel exists and why the IDF must exist: because, as Golda Meir once said, ‘We have nowhere else to go.’

I see us fighting for one another, refusing to be broken.

What gives me hope is everything we carry: our past, our present, and our future. Our history proves that we endure. We prevail because survival is written into our DNA. In the present, I see us fighting for one another, refusing to be broken. And in the future, I believe with certainty: Israel will remain and the Jewish people will live. Whether or not the world stands with us, we will prevail, because good does win. Even after the darkest night, morning comes, and the sun rises again.”

Dave Wisotsky, New York City

“As an American Jew, when the events of October 7 occurred, I was safe on the other side of the world. As it happened, a few months beforehand, I had begun fasting from news and social media, reducing my consumption of digital media to near-zero. As a result, I remained uniquely insulated from news about the war, a privilege I knew my brothers and sisters on the front lines didn’t have.

Instead of scrolling, I turned to reading Scripture. As a Jewish person who recently started following Jesus, I was especially encouraged when I read his words, ‘You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom’ (Matthew 24:6–7). It is a remarkable comfort to trust that God is not only aware of world events, but that they are all part of a greater, more intricate plan.

When I spent time in Israel this past summer, I met many IDF soldiers. One of these soldiers, who was fighting in Gaza, was deeply disturbed by the world’s negative perception of Israel’s military. He felt that the sacrifice he was making for his country was unappreciated—even despised.

I realized just how deeply the news of protests and violence around the world were a source of discouragement, not only to this man before me, but to his fellow soldiers, to Jewish people globally, and to the allies who stand beside us. Because I had set aside reading the news for a while, I was able to meet this soldier with a spirit full of encouragement and joy. From that abundance, I was able to offer heartfelt gratitude and support to this soldier, covering his lack with my surplus of hope.”

John Orkin, Sydney

“Although we number only 120,000 out of 26 million Australians, Jewish people have made a phenomenal contribution to the country in so many fields: business, education, philanthropy, law, medicine, the media, and more. It was good to be Jewish. We were proud to be Jewish. But for Australian Jews, October 7, 2023 marked the end of a safe and happy life. 

Antisemitic vitriol has become part of ongoing life here, and violent protests have made our large Holocaust-surviving community feel as if they’re reliving the horrors of the past.

I’ve seen a generational divide begin to form. The older members of our community are appalled at the destruction of Gaza, but still believe in the Jewish State's right to exist and defend itself. The younger members don’t share that close empathy for Israel, and tend to be vocally pro-Palestinian. I see it pulling our own community apart.

But as a former citizen of South Africa, I am optimistic that miracles can happen. There were people of courage and goodwill on both sides of the conflict who brought an end to the horrors of Apartheid. If it can happen in such a time as that, why not now?

I believe that a young generation of Israelis and Palestinians will arise out of the bloodshed and say dayenu. Together, they will hopefully build a better future for both their peoples. Of course, this will take time, but I believe that with G-d's help, this will happen.”

How are you processing this heavy anniversary? How have you seen it affect your community, your identity, and your hope for the future? Share your thoughts and lend your voice to the conversation by writing to inherit@inheritmag.com.