Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly NOW. Love mercy NOW. Walk humbly NOW. You are not obligated to complete the work but neither are you free to abandon it.—Talmud

The Earth may be big and its pain gigantic, but everything lies close to us in today’s world, no matter how close or how far.

Jews and St. Louis: The painting of a swastika on a Washington University student’s vehicle (see today’s front page) provides yet another reminder that revulsive acts occur in our own backyard.

Jews and a Nation: The depravity of murders of a rabbi and three young children in Toulouse outside a Jewish school (see related news story on page 5 and related commentary on this page) has led to a French national tragedy and mourning by Jews worldwide.

Jews and the World: The threat to Israel, the Middle East and the world by a potentially nuclear Iran—as discussed and analyzed so eloquently by Middle East expert David Makovsky at our Monday Can We Talk? event—engulfs us with a high and constant level of fear.

If current events don’t demonstrate to the global community that we’re all in this together, we don’t know what will. Yes, ostensibly each of the events above connects to the Jewish community, but the hate is far more pervasive and has much broader implications.

As we now know from statistics and the good works of groups like the Anti-Defamation League, a Nazi swastika can be specifically directed at Jews or serve as a more generalized symbol of hate.

The early evidence from Toulouse shows that the gun in the recent attack also was used to shoot two French paramilitary officers. So the psychotic loathing that led to the deaths this week might have been specifically anti-Semitic or more broadly xenophobic.

And as Makovsky pointed out, the rhetoric of President Barack Obama’s recent talks has correctly pointed to how Iran is not simply Israel’s concern, but that of America, the Middle East and the world as a whole.

The lesson here? There’s no escape from hate. Yes, some historically targeted groups, notably Jews, have experienced a greater level of violence and animus. As we’re painfully witnessing, however, hatred holds no bounds, and anyone and any group can suddenly find themselves as targets.

It would be ironic indeed if the broadening of hate victims causes the world to pay more serious attention to the tragic effects of hate. Yet it may be just so—look at the emphatic (and sadly, far belated) response by tens of millions to the atrocities of Joseph Kony in Uganda, all because the world is now instantly video-connected.

Which brings us full circle to the most local of acts, our own. There’s an opportunity at hand, and it starts with each and every one of us, just as the Talmud saying above illustrates (funny how those words resonate today even though YouTube wasn’t around at the time they were uttered!). It’s the responsibility of each of us to speak up, about and against hate, in all its manifestations, whenever and wherever we can.

So while we truly appreciate groups like ADL and their crucial programs, it is not enough to rely upon them. Neither is leaving the response to governmental and political leaders an answer—often, in this political season, there sometimes seems to be more hate propagated and circulated by candidates than constituents.

The solution starts at home, and it starts with our own words and own own actions. We need to each express ourselves with intentionality about why and how hate—in our neighborhood, in our nation, in the world—continues to present a destructive force.

(Some wonder why the Light allows publication of letters that can reflect a polarizing view. We certainly have our boundaries and standards in this regard—vulgar words or specifically hateful epithets can and should be edited out. Our journalistic approach beyond that is nestled in the belief that information, education and open debate, rather than censorship, reflect our highest aspirations.)

Good, local words and works can be disseminated just as far and wide as can hateful ones. While tragedies receive the brunt of news coverage, in this era of citizen journalism they needn’t represent the only alternative.

So while we hardly suggest that speaking out against hate at and near home will win the battle over world-class virulence such as that propagated by Iran’s leaders, it’s the tool that most of us have available. We must use it, consistently and persistently, until the brash noise of hatred is drowned out by those who insist upon the makings of a better world.