“Look
for the silver lining.” “It’s always darkest before the dawn.” “Make lemonade out of lemons.” How many dozens — hundreds — of ways do we
have to inspire, motivate, comfort or convince ourselves that good can come
from bad.
Some people even go so far as to say,
out of religious conviction or an abiding commitment to order and purpose in
the universe, that bad happens in order to lead to the good. That it is all part of a plan, that ours is
just to keep the faith and carry on.
Which leads to the latest chapter of
“Is It Good for the Jews?” This in the
form of the recent epidemic of violent, indeed deadly antisemitism in our country,
and our world.
My teacher Rabbi Donniel Hartman
reveals, in a recent article, how much he
“hates” talking about antisemitism. I
have seen, myself, how sometimes the only thing which will get otherwise
less-than-connected Jews to pay attention is an external threat, how seventh
graders “wake up” to focus on Auschwitz (too young to teach the Holocaust, but
too many are gone after B’nai Mitzvah that there seemed little choice). But I am interested in Jewish action in
history, not merely reaction – in our agency, more than our suffering and
victimhood. In our history we Auschwitz,
yes. But we also have Sinai. And so much more.
Historian and Holocaust Scholar Deborah
Lipstadt, author of History on Trial and Antisemitism: Here and Now, shared
a story in her
remarks at the Reform movement Biennial convention in Chicago last month. She spoke of a student who suddenly began
wearing a kippah as a reaction to antisemitism, as a visible
indication that he refused to be intimidated.
I think everyone listening to her expected her response to be one of
admiration.
It was that. But not solely that. She also shared a sadness, a sorrow that, she
said, he was letting those who hate Jews define his Jewish life for him. He was outsourcing his identity. He was, she
said, “motivated by the ‘Oy’ of being Jewish, not by the joy of Jewish life.
That’s not my Judaism, and I don’t want it to be his.”
My tenth grade students, from the late
1990’s until just a few years ago, looked at me like I was crazy and out of
touch when I taught about people who hate Jews.
Those same-aged students now are hardly dismissing the discussion out of
hand (although many of them do, characteristically, still “universalize” it,
and are not equipped to see the uniquely anti-Jewish contours of this particular
disease.)
But what are we to do, and what are we to take
from this return to darkness? And it has
to be more than just: “hey, at least now they’ll pay attention.”
A few observations, each of which warrant
longer treatment. I share now some “bullet
points” (a singularly inappropriate term, given the context of violence in our
midst.)
·
Antisemitism is not limited to
one side of a political spectrum. It
comes from the right, and the left, from white nationalists and black
separatists and many more sources. Using
these events to score political points is its own form of obscenity.
·
This is not a reaction to what
we do. It is based on who we are.
·
Targets in New York at the
moment may be focused on those who seem very visibly Jewish, Orthodox and
ultra-Orthodox Jews. (Distinctions
between and among those groups is a discussion for another time as well. The term “Chasidic” in particular is very
widely misunderstood and misused.) But
make no mistake: an attack on any Jewish person, because they are Jewish, is an
attack on all Jews.
·
We must stand against all forms
of racism and bigotry, and be allies for minorities and the “other” wherever
they may be. To have a friend, we have
to be a friend.
·
But. There is something unique about hatred of
Jews, in its persistence over time, its manifestations in places where there
are many Jews and where there are none, and its combination of religious, ethnic,
sociological and psychological motives.
·
No Jewish person, and no Jewish
community, is immune. We are all on the
front line in the battle against this disease.
Those who live in the Virgin Islands are fortunate to be in a place with
little history of antisemitism. But
there have been moments, even here – hate mail received, or deeply psychotic or
ill-willed postings on local social media.
And despite being on an island, today, no one “is” an island.
·
This is not about Israel. While it is legitimate to question an Israeli
policy (many of which I strongly oppose), too many involved in activity
against Israel question its very polity.
I therefore believe that, unless you are opposed to all nation-states in
all forms and you do not believe in borders and boundaries at all, anti-Zionism
(defined as opposition to the very idea of – democratic – Jewish state,) is antisemitism.
·
This is real. Things are bad. And it is getting worse.
·
But remember: in no way is this
the worst of times. It is far better to
be Jewish today than at almost any other point in history. We have the resources, the experience, and
the will to turn this back, and bring back hope, and light, and love.
There
is no magic want here. The best responses do not provide an instant fix. But light can shine, still, and good can come,
out of hatred and horror.
Here is what we already know about a
healthy expression of Jewish identity: that we be active as Jews, yes, but also
reach out to others. That we be
vigilant, but not rigid. That our doors
should be guarded, but still open with ease.
As Jews, we are all connected to each
other. May we increase our love for
other Jews, of different streams and different expressions – even as we acknowledge
our distinctions. We share a common
fate, even if we cannot always share a plate, or pray in the same way.
And as Americans, and as human beings,
we are also connected. May we be good
neighbors, involved in our communities, caring about what makes others hurt.
Pride, without prejudice. And this: wherever you go, whatever you do,
however you “Jew” – you are, always, an ambassador for us all.
No pressure! And best wishes for a happier, healthier, and
safer new year.
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