I grew up in a town that had, and still has, a large Jewish community. My public high school had a sizable Jewish population but was mostly Christian. I imagine there were students of other faiths as well, though I wasn’t aware of it.
I experienced so little antisemitism as a student that I distinctly remember the very few times it occurred.
Now these were the 1970's and early 80's in Fair Lawn, NJ, a suburb half an hour west of the George Washington Bridge. Towns with fewer Jews, towns in different parts of the country, generally experienced more antisemitism.
The 70’s and 80’s, when a significant number of us came of age in this country or were raising our own children, were what I’ll call a little gan eden, a little Garden of Eden. Great Neck in the 70’s and 80’s must have felt like my childhood town, even more-so. A more sizable Jewish majority, more Jewish influence, more of a feeling of stability.
As this morning’s Torah reading makes clear, the Garden of Eden didn’t last so long. Was it meant to last longer? From a literary perspective, I would point out that the story, in keeping with other origin stories, was likely was meant to be etiological, to explain to its readers why life was the way it was - why life was hard, why people had to struggle with constant disappointments, with human beings not only loving and creating, but also hating and destroying.
And so a story was told about how the creator put us in a beautiful secure garden לעבדה ולשומרה l’ovdah ul’shomrah - to tend and to care for - and we messed up, resulting in our living in a world that is beautiful but also dangerous.
No one who came to this country from Poland or Germany or Iraq or Iran or many other places believed this was a Garden of Eden for Jews because they understood, based on their experience, that there is no such thing.
But even for these individuals, and certainly for those who came of age here in the 70’s and 80’s, and for our children, it felt in general, and for Jews as well, that life was safe and secure.
One year ago, as we heard the news of the shootings at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, whatever feeling of safety and security we might have had was shattered. A sense of American Jewish life as being somehow protected was in a profound way threatened.
We were heartbroken, angry and frightened at the time, and then months later came Poway, California, and now we hear routinely of Jews being attacked in Brooklyn. Antisemitic words and actions have indeed risen significantly in this country in the last several years.
With sadness but also with hope, I want to offer a few thoughts on the anniversary of the Pittsburgh shootings which is also Shabbat Bereishit, the Sabbath of Beginnings.
It’s ok to be afraid. I said this on Yom Kippur and I stand by it. Pretending not to be afraid is pointless and unhealthy. The question is, what do we do? So here are some thoughts about that.
Number one. We have a responsibility to be careful and to try as best as we can to ensure safety and security for us and for others. As in many synagogues and JCCs across the country, in our synagogue, we have taken explicit steps to increase safety and security will continue to do so. This sometimes results in inconvenience, but we ask everyone to recognize that inconvenience is a small price to pay for increased security.
Number two. We need to be united as a Jewish community. I hope we can agree that whether antisemitism comes from the right or the left, it is dangerous and needs to be called out. I said that at a rally a few months ago, I’ve been saying it from this space, I am guided by ADL leadership in this regard and by the research and insight of such leading scholars as Professor Deborah Lipstadt of Emory University who writes again and again that we should not have blinders on when it comes to antisemitism. Those on the right need to recognize right-wing antisemitism and those on the left need to recognize left-wing antisemitism.
Moreover, non-Orthodox Jews need to respond when Orthodox Jews are attacked and Orthodox Jews need to respond when non-Orthodox Jews are attacked. I was extremely comforted when Rabbi Ismach of the Young Israel of Great Neck proposed that all of the Great Neck synagogues come together for a prayer gathering following the Pittsburgh shootings, which occurred at a Conservative synagogue. And, as I pointed out a few weeks ago, we here need to speak out when Orthodox Jews in Brooklyn are attacked. The attackers generally don’t care whether we are Orthodox or Reform or secular or right-wing or left-wing. We need to be united.
Number three. We need to find allies outside of the Jewish community among people of good will of all faiths and backgrounds. In Pittsburgh, the Christian and Muslim communities rallied behind the Jewish community and offered help with security and funds. For those who might say, “what do others ever do for us?” the responses in
Pittsburgh provide an answer. There are Christians and Muslims and Hindus and nonbelievers of good will who have helped, and who want to help. Likewise, we need to support them during good times and bad.
Number four. We need to teach, and model, for our children and grandchildren that the people who hate us don’t get to define us. Of course we must protect ourselves from them as best we can. Of course we must speak out against vile hatred of us and of others.
But the point of being Jewish isn’t to survive hatred. The point of being Jewish is to bring love and responsibility into the world. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah were told to be a source of blessing to the world. We are their descendants and that is our legacy.
This past Monday night, men, women and children were in this sanctuary on Simhat Torah singing and dancing in celebration of our Torah and what it means for us and for humanity. The next day, we sang and danced some more and we honored three couples who are devoting their lives to bringing Jewish values to life by, among other things, welcoming people to our synagogue and giving a joyful experience to the youngest and oldest among us.
When our young people leave Great Neck for college campuses nationwide, we want them to feel secure, for sure. We also want them to continue to discover the joyful, if also challenging, responsibility of being Jewish in the world.
Professor Lipstadt, in a recent article for the Forward, emphasized this very point about how we must approach Judaism in a way that is self-denying and affirming.
"We are bearers of a magnificent tradition, one that expresses itself in religious, intellectual, philanthropic, artistic, communal, and political contexts. Despite the best efforts of so many generations of non-Jews to harm, kill, and even annihilate us, we celebrate the multi-faceted tradition that is ours and all it has given to the world. We do so, not because of the attempt to destroy us, but despite it. We are so much more than victims." (Lipstadt, Forward, Oct. 23, 2019)
To that, I hope we can all say Amen.
Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on Shabbat Bereishit, October 26, 2019
Great Neck community prayer gathering following the shootings
I experienced so little antisemitism as a student that I distinctly remember the very few times it occurred.
Now these were the 1970's and early 80's in Fair Lawn, NJ, a suburb half an hour west of the George Washington Bridge. Towns with fewer Jews, towns in different parts of the country, generally experienced more antisemitism.
The 70’s and 80’s, when a significant number of us came of age in this country or were raising our own children, were what I’ll call a little gan eden, a little Garden of Eden. Great Neck in the 70’s and 80’s must have felt like my childhood town, even more-so. A more sizable Jewish majority, more Jewish influence, more of a feeling of stability.
As this morning’s Torah reading makes clear, the Garden of Eden didn’t last so long. Was it meant to last longer? From a literary perspective, I would point out that the story, in keeping with other origin stories, was likely was meant to be etiological, to explain to its readers why life was the way it was - why life was hard, why people had to struggle with constant disappointments, with human beings not only loving and creating, but also hating and destroying.
And so a story was told about how the creator put us in a beautiful secure garden לעבדה ולשומרה l’ovdah ul’shomrah - to tend and to care for - and we messed up, resulting in our living in a world that is beautiful but also dangerous.
No one who came to this country from Poland or Germany or Iraq or Iran or many other places believed this was a Garden of Eden for Jews because they understood, based on their experience, that there is no such thing.
But even for these individuals, and certainly for those who came of age here in the 70’s and 80’s, and for our children, it felt in general, and for Jews as well, that life was safe and secure.
One year ago, as we heard the news of the shootings at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, whatever feeling of safety and security we might have had was shattered. A sense of American Jewish life as being somehow protected was in a profound way threatened.
We were heartbroken, angry and frightened at the time, and then months later came Poway, California, and now we hear routinely of Jews being attacked in Brooklyn. Antisemitic words and actions have indeed risen significantly in this country in the last several years.
With sadness but also with hope, I want to offer a few thoughts on the anniversary of the Pittsburgh shootings which is also Shabbat Bereishit, the Sabbath of Beginnings.
It’s ok to be afraid. I said this on Yom Kippur and I stand by it. Pretending not to be afraid is pointless and unhealthy. The question is, what do we do? So here are some thoughts about that.
Number one. We have a responsibility to be careful and to try as best as we can to ensure safety and security for us and for others. As in many synagogues and JCCs across the country, in our synagogue, we have taken explicit steps to increase safety and security will continue to do so. This sometimes results in inconvenience, but we ask everyone to recognize that inconvenience is a small price to pay for increased security.
Number two. We need to be united as a Jewish community. I hope we can agree that whether antisemitism comes from the right or the left, it is dangerous and needs to be called out. I said that at a rally a few months ago, I’ve been saying it from this space, I am guided by ADL leadership in this regard and by the research and insight of such leading scholars as Professor Deborah Lipstadt of Emory University who writes again and again that we should not have blinders on when it comes to antisemitism. Those on the right need to recognize right-wing antisemitism and those on the left need to recognize left-wing antisemitism.
Moreover, non-Orthodox Jews need to respond when Orthodox Jews are attacked and Orthodox Jews need to respond when non-Orthodox Jews are attacked. I was extremely comforted when Rabbi Ismach of the Young Israel of Great Neck proposed that all of the Great Neck synagogues come together for a prayer gathering following the Pittsburgh shootings, which occurred at a Conservative synagogue. And, as I pointed out a few weeks ago, we here need to speak out when Orthodox Jews in Brooklyn are attacked. The attackers generally don’t care whether we are Orthodox or Reform or secular or right-wing or left-wing. We need to be united.
Number three. We need to find allies outside of the Jewish community among people of good will of all faiths and backgrounds. In Pittsburgh, the Christian and Muslim communities rallied behind the Jewish community and offered help with security and funds. For those who might say, “what do others ever do for us?” the responses in
Pittsburgh provide an answer. There are Christians and Muslims and Hindus and nonbelievers of good will who have helped, and who want to help. Likewise, we need to support them during good times and bad.
Number four. We need to teach, and model, for our children and grandchildren that the people who hate us don’t get to define us. Of course we must protect ourselves from them as best we can. Of course we must speak out against vile hatred of us and of others.
But the point of being Jewish isn’t to survive hatred. The point of being Jewish is to bring love and responsibility into the world. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah were told to be a source of blessing to the world. We are their descendants and that is our legacy.
This past Monday night, men, women and children were in this sanctuary on Simhat Torah singing and dancing in celebration of our Torah and what it means for us and for humanity. The next day, we sang and danced some more and we honored three couples who are devoting their lives to bringing Jewish values to life by, among other things, welcoming people to our synagogue and giving a joyful experience to the youngest and oldest among us.
When our young people leave Great Neck for college campuses nationwide, we want them to feel secure, for sure. We also want them to continue to discover the joyful, if also challenging, responsibility of being Jewish in the world.
Professor Lipstadt, in a recent article for the Forward, emphasized this very point about how we must approach Judaism in a way that is self-denying and affirming.
"We are bearers of a magnificent tradition, one that expresses itself in religious, intellectual, philanthropic, artistic, communal, and political contexts. Despite the best efforts of so many generations of non-Jews to harm, kill, and even annihilate us, we celebrate the multi-faceted tradition that is ours and all it has given to the world. We do so, not because of the attempt to destroy us, but despite it. We are so much more than victims." (Lipstadt, Forward, Oct. 23, 2019)
To that, I hope we can all say Amen.
Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on Shabbat Bereishit, October 26, 2019
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