Rabbi's Blog

Noted Historian Dr. Deborah E. Lipstadt often begins her lectures lamenting that while most scholars hope their subject matter is considered current and relevant, her subject of antisemitism is a topic that none of us want to be contemporary, and yet it always is.

On Monday, December 2, the BTC Book Club will hold a dinner and discussion of Dr. Lipstadt’s recent book, Antisemitism: Here and Now. Please see our website for details. To bridge this discussion, I am sharing my Yom Kippur sermon which was inspired by her book. Please note that most of the unattributed footnotes are derived from Dr. Lipstadt’s Antisemitism: Here and Now and from a September 6, 2019 New York Times opinion piece by noted editor Bari Weiss.

B’shalom, Rabbi Taron Tachman

What We Stand For and Against

Sermon Yom Kippur Morning: 2019/5780

Rabbi Taron Tachman

Two Jews sat in a coffee shop, discussing the fate of their people. “How miserable is our lot,” said one. “Pogroms, discrimination, Hitler and the Ku Klux Klan…. sometimes I think we’d be better off if we’d never been born!” “Of course,” said the other. “But who has that kind of luck?” “Not one in 50,000!”

Thankfully, none of us think we’d be better off not born, but many of us, like the two Jews in the coffee shop, find ourselves increasingly worried.

Though we live in a country that has been welcoming of Jews, a place where we have felt safe, we can’t help but notice with concern an increased prominence of Jewish hatred, bigotry and prejudice in the US and elsewhere.

Now isn’t a time to panic, but now is a good time to consider what we as a people are facing and how we might respond.

Our Torah portion provides a fitting frame for our conversation. This morning we read that the Israelites stand on the border of the Promised Land poised to enter. They stand together before God, heads held high, ready to accept God’s covenant. They stand at attention, ready for action.

We read this section of Torah today on Yom Kippur because, like our ancient ancestors, today we stand together as a people before God. We stand together on the border between who we were last year and who we aspire to be in the coming year. We stand united at attention ready to reaffirm to ourselves and our God what we stand for and what we stand against.

So this morning, let’s talk about what we stand for and against. Let’s talk about what we are facing as Jews, what others are saying about us, trying to do to us, and how we might respond.

What we have been witnessing is unnerving; poisonous hateful ideas about Jews widely circulate on social media and the internet. Government leaders spread anti-semitic troupes and give authority to such vile ideas and insert false notions about Jews into the mainstream. As the rhetoric sinks in, it emboldens hateful groups and individuals who in turn take action against Jews.

In the last few years the number and severity of incidents of harassment, vandalism and assaults against Jews and Jewish institutions in the US has risen dramatically. According to the FBI, Jews are the most targeted religious group in the United States.

In Europe the situation is much worse. Those who publicly identify as Jews fear for their personal safety. In Europe, they say, the way to find a Jewish institution is by looking for the building surrounded by police cars and barriers. In Europe, things have gotten so bad, one newspaper headline described the antisemitism there as “worse since Nazis.” Though we want to imagine that antisemitism was defeated along with the Nazi’s, the reality is that hatred of Jews is alive and thriving.

Recently, I attended a lecture by noted Historian Dr. Deborah Lipstadt, who is well known on account of a documentary called Denial which chronicles her successful defeat in court of a Holocaust Denier. What I learned from the lecture was eye opening and I purchased her latest book called: Antisemitism: Here and Now which incidentally will be the featured book for the Beth Tikvah Book Club in December.

In her book, Lipstadt defines antisemitism, categorizes the various types of antisemites, and unpacks the uptick in hatred, prejudice and bigotry we are witnessing today.

Lipstadt points out that “most of us don’t need a scholarly definition of antisemitism. For us, we feel it in our bones when we are disliked for no other reason than we are Jews. To quote a former Supreme Court Justice, Potter Stewart: “We know it when we see it. “We know it when we experience it. We recognize stories of antisemitism in the news, on social media, in words said by leaders or when a co-worker or friend says something that puts us on edge. “Hey, I’m going shopping on Saturday. I want you to come with me. I know you will know a bargain when you see it!”

When we encounter antisemitism we often don’t know what to say or how to respond. It is so shocking and uncomfortable. Often we don’t understand it ourselves. Where is this dislike coming from? We, the vast majority of us, are good, decent people. Hating all Jews makes no sense.

Antisemitism, though it shares some aspects of other hatreds, is truly unique in its history, structure, function and impact. It often doesn’t look like or act like other forms of bigotry and that’s in part why for many Americans, antisemitism just doesn’t register. “Jews in America suffering?” they might say to you. “Give me a break!”

Actually, few people really understand antisemitism; the world’s oldest and most versatile of hatreds. Antisemitism has origins in Christianity, Islam, economics, politics and debunked racial theories. It is found across political spectrums, across utterly opposite worldviews, across cultures; it is present in countries were few or no Jews live and it is present among other minority groups we would otherwise consider allies.

Antisemitism doesn’t usually function as a constant violent oppression. It ebbs and flows based on political and economic conditions. Like a virus, it can be treated, but never goes away. It reappears whenever an opportune moment arises.

Hatred of Jews tends to have in common a particular, insidious, perception of who Jews are and what Jews do in the world. Jews, say anti-Semites, are obsessed with money, power and control. Jews are exceedingly smart but they use their cunning for nefarious purposes and they only help their own. Jews are believed to have supernatural powers, they are rootless and infiltrate society, secretly pulling the strings, purposely creating whatever problems in the world they can leverage to own advantage.

As Lipstadt writes, “antisemitism is not simply the hatred of something foreign, but the hatred of a perceived perpetual evil in the world. Jews, are seen not as an enemy but the ultimate enemy; a demonic force that must be destroyed.”

In essence, antisemitism is an age old conspiracy theory that asserts that though “Jews may be small in number, they have the ability to compel far more powerful entities to do their bidding.”

What makes antisemitism so dangerous is how adaptable it is, how easy it is to blame Jews for anything, regardless of how ridiculous the claim. Conspiracy theories which are irrational, delusional, and absurd, are immune to challenge. The crazier, the story— the more believable.

Consider two contrasting examples: When I first heard about Alt Right, White supremacists, White Nationalists and Neo Nazis, marching in Charlottesville, dressed like ordinary Americans, carrying Tiki Torches, and chanting “Jews will not replace us,”

I thought these people were meshugenah. We Jews are barely 2% of the population and our birth rates are so low! How could we possibly replace them?

But that’s not what they are talking about. These groups believe that Jews, who look White, are not White and they believe that Jews are the reason why hard working White people like them can’t succeed. They believe Jews are the brains behind the civil rights movement and are engineering the current demographic shifts in the US. They believe Jews are bringing in immigrants, refugees, “invaders” to destroy them and this country. They call it “the great replacement” or “white genocide.” So while it’s true that these haters despise Muslims, Blacks, Latinos, and LGBTQ and others, its Jews, they hate and fear the most.

The idea that greedy, power hungry Jews are conspiring for control is also present on the Left. Two examples of many is how the far left sees AIPAC, as driving American policy in the world and they believe Israel manipulates the US to do whatever it wants. A cartoon that recently ran in the New York Times International Edition sums it up. It depicts Israeli PM, Benjamin Netanyahu as a seeing-eye dog with a Star of David on his collar guiding a blind skullcap-wearing President Trump.

Unfortunately there is an endless amount of examples of differing degrees of severity one could point out to justify concern. The question for us is what can we- those on the receiving end of hatred do about it?

In an article in the New York Times, Bari Weiss, an expert on antisemitism, suggests that Jews historically often face two choices when threatened. The first choice is to contort ourselves to look and act more like everyone else. Weiss suggests that this rarely worked: “The Greeks, the Germans, the Bolsheviks still hated and harmed Jews, no matter how much we tried to be like them.” I would add that we are not that good at pretending to be something we are not, anyway.

There is a story about a Jew who got membership at a country club that didn’t accept Jews. His first visit was on a warm summer’s day. We went to the outdoor pool, which was surrounded by members sunbathing. He plunged straight in and was shocked by how cold the water was. When he surfaced, he couldn’t stop himself from letting out an impassioned “oy vey!” Then, immediately realizing his mistake, he hopelessly added: “…Whatever that means...”

No matter how we try to hide it, our Jewish identity always bubbles to the surface.

Another example: This June, while serving as faculty at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute, OSRUI, summer camp, our group of teens that went rock climbing at Devil’s Lake were told to keep their Jewish identity on “the down low.” “We love that you are proud and passionate Jews,’ we told them, “but we are outside of camp and there are people who don’t like Jews. We don’t want any trouble. Please tuck in your Jewish star necklaces.  Turn your menorah t-shirts inside out. Whisper homotzi before meals and don’t let strangers know you’re Jewish”. The teens nodded their heads with understanding.

But two days later, like the Jew in the country club, our OSRUI teens forgot all warnings and they couldn’t help themselves from belting out at the top of their lungs, the entire morning service in Hebrew as they descended the mountain in a rainstorm! They could be heard for miles, I’m sure!

 So if hiding our identities won’t work, what can we do?

We need to call out anti-Jewish rhetoric when we encounter it. Whether it comes from hateful groups or individuals, irresponsible politicians or leaders, we need to speak up. And we should be especially sure to confront antisemitism when we notice it from our own political allies, our co-workers, and even our acquaintances.

Sometimes we can respond calmingly and reasonably: “Can you please repeat what you just said?” Or “I’m sure you didn’t mean it that way, but the phrase you used has been used to attack Jews.” Sometimes we use gentle humor, like Rabbi Balfour Brickner did when he was imprisoned for advocating for civil rights, and a guard asked him if he was Jewish—his response: “Yes, are you?!”

Sometimes we must courageously speak up, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes us feel. We need to make it clear that antisemitism is not just a threat to Jews; it is a wider problem for all Americans. It is a threat to democracy. We need to urge government officials to take principled stances against hatred. We need to lobby our government to invest more into monitoring domestic hate group and to dedicate more resources to help people disengage from extremism.

Rabbi Angela Buchdall of Central Synagogue in New York writes: “Antisemitism never exists in a vacuum. Tolerance of antisemitism goes hand in hand with tolerance of hatred of all kinds.” And as Dr. Lipstadt explains, “[whenever] Jews are being targeted with hateful rhetoric and prejudice other minorities should not feel immune. This is not likely to end with Jews.”

They are right. Just look at what happened in El Paso when a hate filled White Supremacist opened fire at Latinos at a Walmart. If anything, this is a reminder that we minority groups need to stick together. To fight antisemitism, we need to build our political power, form as many alliances as we can, get to know our neighbors and stand against hate.

I was moved by the words of Cruz Valesques, the son of Juan Valesquez, one of the shooting’s victims. Following the tragedy, Cruz said: “This is a time to look at each other and it starts in our own homes and we have to tell our children that your neighbor who is African American, your neighbor who is Muslim, your neighbor who is gay, they are us. We have to take care of each other.”

In the fight against hatred we are not alone. In the days after the 2018 attack on a synagogue in Pittsburgh, there was a national outpouring of love and support for the victim’s families and survivors, 2 Muslim groups donated 200,000, there were crowdsourcing campaigns, vigils, blood drives and visits. At Beth Tikvah Congregation we received numerous supportive calls and cards and visits and offers of help from area churches and mosques, neighbors and friends. One family left flowers and a kid’s drawing of a flag at our doorsteps with the words, you are loved and valued in our America. Another concerned neighbor, a Catholic, sent a very kind note with a generous donation to help us with security expenses.

We are not alone and we are not weak or victims. We have beefed up our security and we have fortified our hearts with courage and conviction. The morning after the Pittsburgh attack our building was full with people.

I will never forget how that Sunday morning a mom, who herself is of another faith, practically burst into the synagogue holding the hands of her two young daughters. She told me with fire in her eyes and a determination that surprised me: “We had to drive an hour to get here, but there was no, way, no way, we weren’t going to be here after what happened yesterday!”

Also inspiring was the courage demonstrated by the Chabad Rabbi in Poway, California after his congregation was attacked. This rabbi, who looks unmistakably Jewish, was not going to let White Supremacists define for everyone else who is a true citizen of this country or what one looks like or believes.

Rabbi Yisroel Goldstein stood up and said: I am an American! You’re not going to do this to me! I will not fear. I’m going to walk down the street with my Tzitzit hanging out and my black hat and be visible and none shall make me afraid!”

Rabbi Goldstein’s bravery reminds me of the story of Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, who, as a student at Harvard Law School, faced discrimination as a Jew and insults from fellow students. People would say to Brandeis, things like: “you’re brilliant, if you weren’t a Jew, you could end up on the Supreme Court, why don’t you convert?” On the occasion of his official introduction to the law schools’ exclusive honor society, Brandeis took the podium and said to his classmates: “I am sorry I was born a Jew.” His words were met by thunderous applause, but when they quieted down he continued, “I’m sorry I was born a Jew, but only because I wish I had the privilege of choosing Judaism on my own.” Stunned silence gave way to awed respect.

 

 

In our troubled times, we need chazak. We need strength to call out antisemitism and other hatred when we see it. We need to build coalitions with others, and to have the courage to proudly and openly express who we are as Jews. All of these actions are worthy of our effort.

But these actions alone will not ensure the future of Judaism and the well-being of Jews. These are all reactions to something someone else did to us. We are responding to them, to their hate, to their negative agenda. We know what we stand against, but for Judaism to survive we need to ask ourselves; what do we stand for?

As Deborah Lipstadt writes, the biggest threat to Judaism is not Jew hatred. The biggest threat to Judaism is our own disconnection from it.

As Bari Weiss points out, there has never been a single moment in Jewish history in which there weren’t antisemites determined to eradicate Judaism and the Jews. Yes, fighting antisemitism is important, but it is not what ultimately makes us stronger.

“Safety,” for us, “comes from drilling down into the wellspring of what made us special to begin with.” “The long ark of Jewish history makes it clear that the only way to fight is by waging an affirmative battle for who we are. By entering the fray for our values, for our ideas, for our ancestors, for our families, and for the generations that will come after us. We need to build a Judaism that is not only safe but also generative, humane, joyful and life affirming.”

I am reminded of the time when Moshe Dayan was asked what the American Jewish community could do to help Israel. You might think the heroic Israeli General would say, “join the Israeli army” or “send tanks!” But he did not.

When asked what the American Jewish community could do to help Israel, Dayan replied: “Just be Jewish. Jews know what to do when Jews are in trouble.”

Dayan reply still resonates today.

“Just be Jewish.”

To be Jewish is to see Jewish history with optimism. What’s the joke about how to sum up every Jewish holiday? They tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat! By every historical precedent, Jews shouldn’t be here. Few other groups have experienced the persecution and cruelty that Jews have endured over the centuries. And yet we have thrived and flourished.

To be Jewish is to be aware of our sacred Jewish values and traditions and to live lives that exemplify the goodness of Jews and Judaism. Each of you are ambassadors of Judaism.

You may be the only Jew that people of other faiths ever encounter. When someone tries to paint Jews in a negative light, people who know you will speak up and counter such false assertions by citing your good example.

But more than that, your loving embrace, interest and practice of Judaism is a gift to you, to your families that will make your lives even better regardless of what others think of you.

Every morning our tradition urges not to curse being born Jewish or choosing Judaism; but instead we say: Blessed are you God, sheh-ah-sah-ni Yisrael—who has made me a Jew.

Being a Jew is a blessing; a wonderful opportunity to live a life of meaning, connection and holiness. And being Jewish is fun and joyous. There are many more joys than oys.

At the conclusion of Deborah Lipstadt’s book she describes going to synagogue with a five year old girl and her mother. In the eyes of the five year old, the synagogue is a joyful place where she runs around with the other kids, attends a children’s service that is filled with singing and then winds her way into the main sanctuary where she and her friends conclude services and receives lollipops from the rabbi.

So many of us who have raised or are raising our children at Beth Tikvah Congregation can relate to this description of Joy as seen through the eyes of a child. And it is not just our young children who find the joy, the connection, the meaning, the spirituality. It’s our teens, and all of you in your own way.

Being Jewish is a blessing and our congregation, our community is one of joy, comfort and strength. So, today as we stand at the border between who we are and who we inspire to be this year:

Let us face our future with strength, courage and hope. May we never stop fighting the good fight, even as we rejoice in who we are. Chazak, Chazak, ve-nit chazeik.

May we be strong. May we strengthen one another

And let us celebrate our lives together. Amen

References

https://www.tabletmag.com/scroll/274937/fbi-jews-subject-to-60-of-religiously-motivated-hate-crimes-in-2017-despite-being-just-2-of-u-s-population

^{1, 2} This is the spelling for ‘antisemitism’ preferred by Professor Deborah Lipstadt. Lipstadt removes the hyphen because “semites” on the right of a hyphen presumes there is such a thing as a “semitic” people and there is not. The word as it has been used for the last 150 years means ‘hatred of Jews’ and not hatred of a nonexistent thing called “semitism.” Lipstadt does not capitalize it as a statement: “It doesn’t deserve the dignity of capitalization, which in English is reserved for proper names.”

³ https://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/aug/07/antisemitism-rise-europe-worst-since-nazis print. 33.

⁴ From a sermon given by Rabbi Angela Buchdahl at Central Synagogue, September 15, 2018 which was entitled: “Sounding the Alarm on Antisemitism.”

⁵ Heard on NPR show, Latino USA with reporter Maria Hinohosa. Similar comments found in this article: https://www.elpasotimes.com/story/news/crime/2019/08/09/el-paso-walmart-mass-shooting-victim-juan-de-dios-velasquez-buried/1971658001/

⁶ Three Times Chai, Laney Katz Becker, “The Choice That Brings Us Here” pg 33