Backstab, Backlash and Back to Basics

I was ousted yesterday out of the Tribe of Israel. I apparently am no longer a Jew, not a good Jew anyway, but this is not the first time. I've been disowned before for other reasons. It was no fun then either. It was downright demoralizing.
My parents' vehement adherence to supporting Israel's actions at any cost has fractured the earth between us. Now there is a chasm widening exponentially as moral obligations are cast out the window, like six-pack holders in a sea of otters. I am at a loss as how to stop the Earth from splitting, as I look to a barren landscape for any material with which to build a bridge.
The sad thing is that I understand this mentality. It is the mentality of War. It is the mentality of a people who have suffered tremendously out of ignorance, greed, hate and exclusion and who have not yet, figured out how to heal from all those traumas in the face of more trauma. It is a life lived in a visceral contingency in which there is always an enemy lurking, waiting for the "weak" link in the fence in order to attack.
The odd thing is that I thought I came in peace. I truly believed that I was advocating for all people, and that this was the right thing to do. I prayed for everyone to stop fighting, insisted that all children be safe, begged that all blood to remain inside intact bodies and believed that all of us ought to have those basic human rights. For that, my own kin, unable to break from a divisive dual thinking, labeled me Anti-Semitic, Anti-Jewish and An Arab Lover. Haven't we been here before?
I look at history and think of other struggles between members of the same family and remember the discord and dissonance, the ripping of relationships, the battlegrounds soaked with loss from Florida to Maine. How did they ever come together? Did they? The Yanks vs. The confederates.
I still hear the scarred language pepper the Northerners' stereotypes of the Southern folk. I am certain the latter has a few misconceptions about the Yanks. Many of us still have some pretty confused ideas about the peoples that were here before we even landed on this continent. Are we bound in patterned chains that will continue to keep us from freeing ourselves from repeated injuries?
So what now? How do I reach to the baffled, appalled, angry family members who feel I am no longer one of their own? How does one stand for what one believes in when one's community is at stake? How far does one go in her convictions when the choice is not very choiceful? I take comfort that I am not the first or last in this dilemma.
Once again, I ask you all to take the hands of all whom you love, and all whom you feel that you don't (that's just confusion), and let us start with one thing we have in common- Let's begin with a single breath.