Do You Care?

We are horrified that Temple Beth Israel in Jackson, MS, was firebombed. It is a violent act of hatred targeting Jews. As antisemitism continues, we find ourselves vulnerable and seeking support.

The community of Jackson, MS, has rallied around its Jewish community in wonderful ways. Many of us, however, feel abandoned by others across the country who have not expressed support for their local Jewish communities amid escalating threats. This is counterproductive, creating divisions and exacerbating tensions where they should not be.

Sadly, there is too much violence and hatred. It is impossible to respond to every incident. The Jewish communities could not meet that standard either. We would spend substantial time issuing statements of outrage and comfort instead of devoting ourselves to the important work of uniting against these blights and working toward changes in our society to create a safer space for all.

Too many understand the pain, often through lived experience. We need solidarity and action, not just words.

 

What does it take for fear to be overcome by courage?

What does it take for fear to be overcome by courage? To dare, to risk, and to fight for what you believe in rather than cower?

The recent Torah portion Shlach begs these questions. Shlach, translated as “Send,” narrates the story of the 12 spies. As you recall, the unit was dispatched on a reconnaissance mission to survey Canaan. They returned with tales of a bountiful land, but one inhabited by giants, making it seem impossible to conquer. Only Caleb and Joshua believed that the Israelites could be victorious, but they were overruled.

Fear gripped the spies; the Giants were too formidable, and their fear raised paralyzing questions. Perhaps they thought—we could live without realizing the promise of the land; maybe we could make do in Mitzrayim or confined spaces. The reticence of these people exploited the vulnerabilities of this nascent nation. They defeated themselves before they were ever tested. Their doubt in themselves, their destiny, their values, and indeed their God meant that this entire generation of recently freed people needed to be replaced by those whose spirit and strength were forged by the trials and tribulations of the harsh Midbar or desert. This spirit and strength are the answers to my initial question: what does it take to overcome fear with courage?

With this strength and spirit, you know in your heart that what you possess and believe is worth fighting for and to have enough faith and courage to take the next step even into the unknown. At the same time, you remain true to your values and morals despite the horrors of warfare, facing the battle with bravery yet not losing your soul in the fog of war.

Now is the time for us moderns to embrace these lessons. More than ever in our recent history, we need to lean into our values — the things we love deeply enough to champion and fight for.

For Israel, the boldness and cunning displayed—from exploding pagers and covert Mossad agents to an aggressive air strike aimed at preemptively striking Iran, a country whose nuclear ambitions threaten Israel—are significant. It is crucial to understand that waiting and hoping, along with economic sanctions, are not always the correct responses. However, it is also necessary to honestly recognize that the costs of this fight will be high, both in lives and resources. Staying morally superior during battles against a stubborn enemy has been especially difficult during the war in Gaza.

And just like there, we face challenges here as well. Domestic rabid Jew-hatred must unite us. We must stand up for our right to live freely, securely, and safely in the United States, a land of great abundance and blessings. We will not cower in silence or fear.

This is the time to stand up and defend our values because this is our home. To those who hate Jews or anyone labeled as “the other,” we fight for the fundamental rights that form the foundation of this great country, both for ourselves and everyone else, to protect the principles of equality, justice, and liberty. The hopes of our people and our traditions are at risk, but we cannot back down.

As Americans and Jews, much is at stake. Indeed, maybe everything is at stake. The fear of the unknown cannot silence us, nor can it allow us to disregard our sacred values and act with impunity against perceived threats. By standing together and believing in ourselves, each other, and the sacredness of our tradition’s values, we will be strong, and we will prevail—Chazak v’Umatz, strength, and courage.

Barukh atah adonai eloheinu melekh ha’olam asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu la’asok betzorkhei tzibur.

Blessed is the Eternal One who commands us to work on behalf of the needs of our community.

Amen

 

Klal Yisrael

 

The Destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by Francesco Hayez

We spend a lot of time talking about Clal Yisrael or Am Israel, the unity of the Jewish people, the fantastic idea that we are all one. However, it’s never seemed to be the case that everyone who claims Jewish identity considers themselves part of this group. We seem to be very easily swayed into looking at denominations and other forms of Jewish practice as false or authentic and often just plain old wrong.

We don’t have a creed; we have something called Halacha. We practice and interpret the law very differently. This is, historically, a source of strength, allowing our tradition to evolve and be organic, but it’s also been the source of a lot of fighting. It creates a very fractious “people.” Indeed, I wonder if Clal Yisrael is a misnomer. However, from the outside, it is a different story.

When others on the outside look, they see Jews. They do not make distinctions between religious Jews, secular Jews, Zionist Jews, orthodox Jews, and the like; to them, it’s just Jews. We’ve seen that mainly through the world’s antisemitism, the Jew-hatred that unites us from the outside.

This brings me to the idea of Sinat Chinam, the concept of “baseless hatred” that we often use as the reason for the internal friction leading to the downfalls of the first and the second temple. It sounds lofty, radical, and extreme.  It’s easy for most of us to talk about it as a foreign object and disclaim any connection to it.  We believe we are not so strident while at the same time criticizing those who do not practice Judaism as we do. But that is precisely what our sages were talking about when discussing the concept. It’s not some deeply ingrained hatred of another denomination but our inability to accept that your Judaism is as authentic and valid as my Judaism. Your practice is a true expression of your understanding of our faith tradition. As is mine.

So it’s about the annoyance. It’s about the intolerance. It’s about the inflexibility. It’s about the idea that because I am right, you must be wrong. This concept was developed by a teacher and friend, Rabbi Brad Hirshfield, in his book “You Don’t Have to Be Wrong for Me to Be Right.” It’s the idea that we can look at each other with understanding and appreciation, even if it’s not how we practice Judaism.

We must find a way to move past our judgment of each other and our intolerance of what we see when it doesn’t comport with what we believe is our tradition’s “proper” practice. The Jewish tent is broad enough to encompass us all.

 

Anti-AntiSemitism

Anti-Anti-Semitism

Anti-Semitism is here. It is ugly and real.  It never went away, even though we almost believed it did.  This is not a time to cower; it is a time to act decisively and urgently.

Our strength lies in our unity and our shared values. We are not alone in this fight but bound together by a tradition of wisdom and insight rooted in humanity’s best values. With these as our guide, we will overcome.

Let’s shift from sorrow to action. In these challenging times, let our Judaism be our strength. Seek the light and community that fortify us.  Stand firm in our beliefs; together, we will construct a world founded on love and kindness. Let’s stand shoulder-to-shoulder with our fellow Jews, extend our blessings to those in need, and illuminate the world. Let’s also reach out to other allies, all people of goodwill, and unite for a common cause. Evil will not triumph.  Together, we will flood the world with light, pushing back the darkness to where it belongs.

 

Being Canceled

In response to the Bryn Mawr Film Institute’s decision to cancel the showing of the film The Child Within Me, I make the following statement:

To the Board of the Bryn Mawr Film Institute

You squandered an essential moment of leadership.

Until this decision, you were a cultural icon and an important voice in our community. But instead of devotion to keeping culture accessible through film, its thoughtful curation, and presentation, you cowed in the face of political pressure. You canceled a film thoroughly unrelated to the war.  The only controversy about this film is your decision to condemn it because the Israeli Film Festival sponsors it.  Shame on you.

People protesting against the showing of a film is an act of free speech.  It does not automatically devolve into violence, and using that as a pretense for canceling is a sign of it is either fecklessness or outright bias against Jews (also known as Antisemitism) and Israel.

Protesters are loud and obnoxious, but they are not violent. Those who attend the festival would find them uncomfortable, but they are not a physical threat. Further, the police of Lower Merion would have done an excellent job of keeping the peace even in this potentially testy situation.

BMFI was an important institution, one I enjoyed participating in and supporting. However, I am deeply disappointed that you have focused on other aspects, neglecting the crucial role of bringing influential films into our community. This decision has undermined the basis for our relationship.  I resign from my membership and call on everyone in our community to do the same.

Sincerely

Rabbi David Levin