anti-Semitism – Jewish Relationships Initiative

Canary in the Coal Mine

Jews are using the phrase “we are the canary in the coal mine” as a warning that anti-Semitism signals growing hatred of all groups in our nation. This idea is profoundly flawed, ironically counterproductive, and requires immediate redress.

The phrase is a desperate appeal to others that they must fight anti-Semitism as it inevitably will lead to hatred against them—that tactic won’t work. People will stand against anti-Semitism because it is wrong. And if they can rationalize anti-Semitism, they won’t care about Jews, canaries, or anyone else. Besides, there is another group that already experiences an institutional brand of hatred: black people and others of color.

People of color have been experiencing hatred and systemic racism for as long as any of us have come to these shores. When we think of Jews as the ones on the front line, we negate the experience of the black community. That is egotistical and shameful and ironically belies the idea embodied in the Canary Phrase. We should be aware of this hatred and align with those others who experience it.

I am not a canary, and I am not in a coal mine. Despite the alarming sharp increase in public displays of anti-Semitism, we live well, thoroughly enjoying so many blessings of this place. We have the power and the means to defend ourselves. And we are. Others do not, and we must help them.

Let us stand against hatred in all its forms besides every one of goodwill. We denounce hatred of any group and work together to fight it on the streets, in the courts, and our hearts. So our country may live up to its aspirations.

We are not birds; we are American Jews standing tall for the values we believe in, and together, we will prevail.

It depends on the context

Yes, the presidents of Harvard and MIT should also resign. Because it really does depend on the context.

Free speech is not the unfettered ability to say anything. Free Speech on campus should be balanced against the needs of the students to attend school without threat or harassment.

Advocating for Genocide is despicable. Although the University is a free marketplace of ideas, calling out for the extermination of Jews on campus is the furthest from a safe and secure space for Jews as there can be. For those presidents unaware of Jewish history, 6 million Jews were slaughtered during the Holocaust. So, Genocide is an exceptionally loaded concept.

The inability to understand the context of this issue and articulate it during an appearance before Congress demonstrates the incompetence of these people to fulfill the role of president at these Universities. If Harvard and MIT are okay with that, that is on them, but they also demonstrate shameful behavior and terrible judgment.

Apologize?

Many have called upon Donald Trump to apologize for embracing two avowed Jew Haters.

Trump has not distanced himself from these bigots or their bile.

Trump is a clever checkers player who has acted according to what he believes is best for him. For us now to receive an explanation or apology after so much time has elapsed would be suspicious at best. It is impossible to believe any apology would be sincere and instead a cynical calculation for personal benefit.

One of the best ways to put out a fire is to eliminate the oxygen from which it is nurtured. Let us deprive this dumpster fire of any further oxygen/publicity so we might focus on issues of importance, including repairing the damage he has incited, stoking hatred, violence, and contempt for the institutions that undergird our nation.

Good Job Dave

Dave Chappelle has us all talking. That is precisely what he intended to do.

Chappelle performed a set for his SNL opening monologue. It was incisive and insightful, sometimes hilarious, sometimes very uncomfortable. He spoke things many people would prefer to remain unspoken, which is his job. As a comedian, he observes the human condition and shares his observations. Couched in comedy, he is acerbic, sardonic, and harsh, pushing against the boundaries if not busting through them.

Chappelle is a professional, a master of his craft. He knew his audience, and he knew which buttons he was pushing.

Chappelle made us think, and he made us talk about what he said. That is important. You may have been offended, and that is okay. There were times when I laughed with amusement, and a couple of times, he made me cringe. But the value of his words was that I had to engage them and think about what was being said.

Thank you, Dave Chappelle, for using the power of your platform to make us think. Yasher Koach!

Torah for Jews Today – Parshat Matot

Matot offers a climax to one of the troubling stories in the formation of our people.

On the verge of entering the Promised Land, the children of Israel must fight the Midianite people first. Although Moses instructs his warriors, according to God’s directive, to slay all the Midianites, Moses is angered when the army spares the women and children and reiterates the command to kill.

Were the Israelite people freed so they would unquestioningly carry out God’s dirty work? Or was this a test to see if we were worthy of freedom and the responsibilities such freedom carries? Were we ready to serve God as a righteous light to the nations? The army commanders understood the implications of this barbaric act and refused to follow the order. Moses overruled them, demanding harsh vengeance.

This kind of retaliation is appalling by our standards, and it was unacceptable for the Israelites, too. The phrase “Just following orders” sends shudders down the spine. But, even where legitimate grievance exists, morality trumps brutal vengeance. Matot is a warning for us and our interaction in an often inhospitable, antisemitic world.

However, the past cannot be the only lens we use to see the future. There was legitimate grievance against the Midianites. They attempted to undermine the nascent Israelite nation, and war appeared to be the way forward. But following orders is insufficient reason to commit atrocities. God’s vengeance is best left for God to transact (the flood, Sodom and the Korach Rebellion, to name three).

When individuals assume that responsibility and act on behalf of God, it is dangerous. A humane approach offers compassion instead of annihilation and a path toward peace. This alternative does not dismiss the history but does not make us slaves to the past, repeating and perpetuating tribalistic hate. Our tradition repeatedly admonishes us to act with benevolence and, in the words of Pirkei Avot, “Even in a place where there are no menschen, strive to be a mensch.”

Against this backdrop, we might look again at the lessons of this part of the parsha and see how we can apply them in many current world affairs and, in particular, to the situation with the Russian war’s effects on Ukrainians and Poles. We cannot be indifferent to human suffering; it goes against everything our tradition demands.

Jewish history in Ukraine and Poland is fraught. Persecution and antisemitism characterize much of the Jewish experience. Periods of welcome, such as King Casimir III inviting Jews to Poland as other countries expelled them, are countered by the infamous Khmelnytskyi and pogroms, which accounted for the slaughter and terror of the Jewish population of the region. It is little wonder that approximately 2 million-plus Jews emigrated to America at the turn of the 20th century when the opportunity to leave that place presented itself.

Furthermore, we understand that deeply rooted antisemitism enabled the Holocaust. These are substantial reasons for the Jewish psyche to be wary. But if we are limited to only that, practicing hatred in response to hate, we deprive ourselves of the very humanity our tradition teaches.

We Jews are duty-bound to see and respond to the Ukrainian people’s human suffering and the Poles’ heroic efforts. We know that the support by the Poles is something no one offered us as the Shoah unfolded. And knowing this, we can nonetheless be instruments in alleviating anguish and perhaps elevating ourselves in the process.

We can serve as Or l’goyim, a light to the nations, deeply rooted in our belief that we can be agents of change; partners in the ongoing act of creation; that we hear of the suffering and do not stand idly by as another’s blood is shed. Our values compel us to be part of the solution to the problem rather than remain mired in a history where we were seen as the problem needing to be solved.

Of course, we do not deny the past or naively presume the days of Jew-hatred are over. But we can take steps to help the world become a better place. This is a lesson I learned from Parsha Matot.

Show your support for the victims of war with your donation. For each donation of $54, we will send you the Ukrainian Sunflower to wear proudly and keep us aware you stand against the suffering. Proceeds are going to the JCC Krakow, a leader in helping Ukrainian refugees.

Remembering Pittsburgh- Stronger than Hate

The tragic murder of 11 people one year ago in Pittsburgh is a harsh reminder that hatred is real and we are not always in control of events. Things often happen to us. As painful, hurtful, or even devastating as something can be, how we react is in our control. What is the life-lesson that we learn and how do we actively embrace that life lesson going forward?

Do we react cynically or with an open, albeit wounded, heart? Can we forgive? Will this event haunt us holding us back, or compel us to move onward? What is the vision of the future we see that is shaped by what happened, what is the world we want to see, and how will we get there?

I struggle with an anger and pain that could be overwhelming, especially as one of the Rabbis initially deploying to Pittsburgh with the Red Cross in the immediate aftermath of the shooting. Our Jewish tradition helps me re-center myself. Here I can embrace the timeless values that understand the human condition and provide a framework for a just society where we all might live in peace, based on the idea that we should treat our neighbors as ourselves. But it is a hard climb up to that mountaintop.

This is the challenge of Pittsburgh. Our hearts ache for those lost as a result of violent Anti-Semitism. We take solace in the love of our neighbors and find strength standing shoulder to shoulder with other people of goodwill to continue to strive for the kind of just society we want America to be.

Our tradition is one of deeds. Our response to this tragedy needs to be more than a feeling. There are many ways to respond through civic involvement and community activism. Judaism requires that we belong to a community committed to promoting our values be it a synagogue, philanthropy, or civil rights group. The important thing is that you are compelled to respond with actions to live the values of our tradition and to build a better world. What will you do?

Zichronam Livracha and Shabbat Shalom.

We’ve made it here after all

There is much we can learn from the tragedy of Pittsburgh. Important among them is that we have realized our parent ’s dream; we are truly a part of America. This awful incident marks a new understanding of our community’s place within the larger American society. Yes, we have made it here. But what that means is now different.

I am suggesting a new definition of “making it here” which is not about assimilation but rather acculturation, maintaining a blended Jewish and American identity, an American subgroup securely joining not only in the fight for our American ideals but also in the proximate threat of Anti-Semitism. This ability to fully and unapologetically embrace our dual identities, engage in championing and defending the ideals and values for us and for all, while confident and secure of our rightful place as citizens; this is what it means to “make it in America.”

Many of our forebears were content with the economic opportunity America offered, as well as the refuge from violence and persecution that were part the life of their homelands. They sought survival, not equality, imagining they might assimilate and become Americans. Although great strides were made, lingering fear and insecurity kept the American Jewish voice from being bolder in demanding action to save the Jews of Europe. The “go along to get along” mentality is part of our past. We are secure enough in our place as Americans to fight for ourselves and for others. Yet darkness lingers and Anti-Semitism persists.

We have long embraced the notion that none are free until all are free and we fight on behalf of others yet to enjoy the full blessings of our country. But now, with White Nationalism and Anti-Semitism, on the rise we have a renewed personal stake in the fight. This struggle against hate and violence is harsher and more hardscrabble than our previous contests for justice and equality, such as those against quotas or deed restrictions. The “no coloreds, Jews, or dogs “ signs from what we thought was a vanquished past reappears in our consciousness. The privileged position many thought we enjoyed needs to be reconsidered and recast.

For most of our history, we Jews have taken care of ourselves. Our morning prayer, Eilu D’varim, include the obligations we set out for ourselves as responsible members of the community: visiting the sick, burying the dead, comforting the mourner among them. We have developed our own institutions devoted to assisting in those practices. HIAS, Jewish Hospitals, and Jewish Universities were created to respond to the needs of our people. Our modern Federation, JCC, and JFCS can trace their roots to this historical understanding that we have been segregated from the broader society; that we had to rely on ourselves to provide for us, as the larger society in which we lived would not. From this self-reliance, we have then reached out to assist others.

The understanding of our mission of helping those in need, the social justice mission at the heart of Tikkun Olam and Tzedakah, emanates from the values of compassion and outreach to the unheard and unseen. Because of our history, Jews have been reluctant to accept help from outsiders, even as we support others. We have been quick to join the fight for Civil Rights but slow to bring outsiders into our places of need. Perhaps, due to our history, such help is suspect, perceived in our collective psyche as a sign of weakness or vulnerability. Pittsburgh has changed that.

When we examine our history, we wonder whether our golden age in America was fleeting or is it enduring. I believe it is the latter, but it is none-the-less threatened by malevolent forces. A recent poll[1] indicated that almost 6% of the non-Hispanic American population, or about 11million, subscribes to the views of the Alt-Right. This means two very important things: First, 94% don’t accept these hate-filled views AND second, that a real Anti-Semitic threat exists. Both of these are part of our reality and we must be alert to the implications of both.

The overwhelming nature of the horror perpetrated upon the Jews in Tree of Life Synagogue has knocked us down with a blunt force that was overwhelming. Every resource we have is insufficient to provide a full measure of comfort. We are indeed vulnerable at this moment. And at this moment, something miraculous happened. The community of Pittsburgh rose up and is trying its best to hold us. Pittsburgh’s various communities, Moslem, Christian, and practically everyone else have come to our aid saying to our Jewish community, “you are one of us and we are appalled. An attack on you is an attack on Pittsburgh, and this will not stand.”

We have in our history experienced extraordinary acts of kindness from outsiders, such as the King of Denmark and the Righteous Gentiles of the Holocaust. And here in 2018 America, the Jewish community needed help and the broader community responded. We are not alone, we are America, supporting and now being supported by our brothers and sisters. It is an extraordinary light shining on a very dark experience. Thank you for your love and support. The refugees who are our forebears have seen their dream of America come true. We are inextricably part of the fabric of America, in both its glory and in its struggle. In the names of those Jewish martyrs so tragically lost, let us join with all others of good will continuing the hard and fraught process to realize the aspirations of the American dream.

[1] University of Alabama, George Hawley, published by UVA’s Institute of Family Studies indicates 5.64% of the 198mm non-Hispanic Whites in the United States have beliefs consistent with the Alt-Right’s worldview.

Sacred Work in Pittsburgh

I have just returned from a deployment to Pittsburgh with the American Red Cross.

For any of my colleagues who have experienced grief, the trauma experienced by the Pittsburgh Jewish community is similar, but orders of magnitude larger. Despite all of the wonderful Jewish institutions that make up the community, Federation, JFCS, the JCC, and all the synagogues, the event was bigger and more catastrophic than anyone could have imagined would happen in 2018. The American Red Cross (ARC) stepped in to help as it does in all disasters and I was called upon to join in the effort.

I joined the Disaster Spiritual Care Team of ARC as a volunteer watching their work in the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey. As a rabbi, I believe this is important and sacred work, and I needed to be part of the team that did that. So, when the call came to assist my own people in the wake of this unspeakable horror, I knew I had to go.

For the Pittsburgh massacre, Rabbis were selected because of the Red Cross’ desire to work with the Jewish community; we know the “language” and are the people to help in creating a liaison, bridging more effectively to the community to share the wealth of services offered with those in need. We focused on communications with institutions and then reaching out to individuals as was possible. It is impossible for two rabbis to care for a community of almost 50,000, so we worked to create connections. It was also clear that we needed to support the rabbis and others who were desperately trying to serve their people while struggling themselves to find strength and succor. Much of the healing work that needs to be done won’t be accurately assessed for some time. As others have noted, this past week we have been sprinting at the beginning of a marathon. And furthermore, the nightmare and the work of healing goes far beyond the Jewish community, all of Pittsburgh suffered this trauma

I was there to help bury people, say Kaddish, attend services and vigils and do what I could, as meager as that sometimes seemed. I held people and I cried (a lot), but mostly I was just present- an empathetic embrace to those in awful anguish and pain to let them know they were not alone in their time of extraordinary grief.

There are multiple levels to this event, like ripples from a stone hitting the water. The families, the congregations, the Jewish Community, the people of Pittsburgh, Jews across the country and the people of America, each has been touched by these murders in Pittsburgh. Each community needs to understand how it has been impacted and how we relate to the others who have also been impacted. It is complicated and it will take time.

The Jewish Community came together. The denominational differences that often separate us were set aside. Funeral services were packed to overflowing as were Friday and Saturday services. And so importantly, we were not alone.

I was heartened to see the greater Pittsburgh community response to this tragedy. The outpouring of love, the sharing of the horror, clearly said to me that the Jews of Pittsburgh are part of the community of Pittsburgh and the community is appalled by this horrible thing perpetrated on a part of it. This sense of unity is an extraordinary and wonderful counter-response to the feelings of isolation or the existential threats that members of the Jewish community may be feeling.

Many others from other faith traditions joined us. For example, I spent time with a family of the Bruderhof tradition (an Anabaptist denomination) who I met at a funeral service held in the Reform Temple Rodeph Shalom and again at the Shabbat morning services held at the Conservative Synagogue Beth Shalom. They were there to be with us. I found some comfort in expressing my deep appreciation for their presence and helping them to understand our siddur, the readings from Torah and Haftarah, and some of the common themes of our faith traditions.

The Moslem community raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for the Victim’s fund. They also offered to create a physical wall of people to surround synagogues in a show of solidarity and protection. All faith traditions joined with us in solidarity as this was an assault against all of us. Our common humanity brought us all together. It was an inspiring message of hope and love.

Rabbi Jeffrey Myers has been remarkably eloquent speaking to the community with important messages as a witness to the horror and as one who has been harshly criticized by some for his welcoming of the President to Tree of Life Synagogue. Rabbi Myers taught in his D’var Torah this past Saturday that if he was to truly practice the values we preach, he was obligated to respectfully welcome the President of the United States into his Jewish home. This also gave Rabbi Myers the opportunity to directly state to the President the need for him to stop the hate speech.

In the midst of it all, the Kiddush after Shabbat services was used to share Sheva Brachot, the recitation of blessings to a wedding couple. For one of the extraordinary Pittsburg rabbis and his wife were just married. We sang the blessings and then everyone burst out in Od Yeshama and we started to dance. Watching my two new friends lead the community in joy and celebration of the hope represented by their marriage brought all of us to our feet. Her unbridled exuberance made all of the pain disappear for a short while. I cried as I clapped and sang as hard as I could.

People are quick to explain why this happened offering ideas that are more pronouncements rather than thoughtful quiet dispassionate analysis. I suggest that it is premature to try to address the question why. It is deeply layered and complex and we are still in the midst of the acute trauma making such conversation and inquiry too highly charged and all but impossible. Instead, as a thoughtful colleague in Pittsburgh suggested, we might instead look towards the question how. How do we move forward in the aftermath is a question that will yield more pragmatic answers that will help those struggling to get through. We will do better to engage in those conversations for now.

The people of Pittsburgh are strong and resilient. But they are hurting badly and deeply. In the name of Klal Yisrael and as fellow Americans, we have an obligation to be there for Pittsburgh’s Jews as the immediacy of the trauma and shock wears off and the struggle to heal begins. We are forever changed by this. May we learn constructive lessons so that those lost as true martyrs in the Jewish tradition will not have died in vain. May their memories be for a blessing.

Shine into the Darkness, The Message we mean to send

“ I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I’m not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant” ― Alan Greenspan

Last week I went to the White House to meet with the Special Assistant to the President with the JCRC and Women’s Philanthropy Division of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia. Respectfully but rather forcefully we advocated for our concerns over the issues of DACA, Gun Violence, BDS, Anti-Semitism, and SNAP. I know we did not change the administration’s opinion, but we gave voice inside the halls of power to our values. Sometimes we do not do speak constructively and what we think we are saying is not the message heard. There is an important example of this making its way around social media.

An anonymous rabbi is attributed as responding to a White House request for a Menorah with a rebuff saying that the current administration is antithetical to everything the holiday and menorah represent, so their menorah is not available.

I believe this message does not take the moral high ground, and instead sounds preachy and filled with a self-righteous arrogance that makes dialogue impossible. The story resonates only for those who already believe it. But for everyone else, the message is negative, generating pushback and defiance, not a moment of teaching and potential rapprochement.

Those of us who believe that the current administration undermines important Jewish values need to speak truth to power but to do so respectful of the institution and with the hope of carrying the message to not merely protest, but to hopefully persuade.

We are obligated to reach out to those with whom we disagree. Through building relationships and dialogue we might give insights and change viewpoints. We also are empowered to champion our causes publicly and we vote. These are sacred and important parts of what makes this an extraordinary country.

The only way our light will illuminate is if we cast it into the dark.

A special message for Shabbat: Remembering Kristallnacht and Veteran’s Day

This weekend is an extraordinary confluence of memories and events that I pray leads to our rededication to the values we cherish as a nation and as Jews. Kristallnacht and Veteran’s Day are times of extraordinary solemn remembrance. The lessons we learn from these can shape our commitment to the world we seek to achieve.

November 9 marks the anniversary of Kristallnacht, Nazi Germany’s great pogrom and genocide against the Jewish people. The oppression and persecution of the Jews of Europe entered a new and deadlier phase bringing the long-simmering anger and aggression out into the open as Goebbels encouraged mass arrests, violence against Jews and any visible signs of Jewishness, including synagogues, stores, and our sacred texts.

WW1 veteran Joseph Ambrose, at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. He holds the flag that covered the casket of his son, who was killed in the Korean War.

November 11 marks Veteran’s Day, the time we honor those who have bravely fought to preserve, protect, and defend our country and the values we represent. Eventually, these men and women fought against the Nazi’s tyrannical regime built on hate but sadly too late to rescue the 6 million Jews slaughtered.

And yesterday, November 9, I was proud to accompany the Women’s Philanthropy Division of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia on a trip to Washington, DC to advocate both in Congress and the White House for DACA, Responsible Gun Legislation, Food Insecurity and the SNAP program, and against BDS and Anti-Semitism. We championed our values and spoke truth to power with persuasive force and civility.

The struggle to realize a better kinder nation and world continues. Yasher Koach and most profound gratitude to all of those who join the fight.

Shabbat Shalom.