Dear Friends,
Just last week, we read an extraordinary passage in the Torah: In response to Joseph's request, Pharaoh invites Joseph's brothers and their father, Jacob, to come down to Egypt to live. And they do. What a relief! They'd been starving in Canaan, so they readily and joyfully descend to Egypt. Pharaoh grants them the right to settle in the fertile Land of Goshen.
And yet ... they don't live happily ever after. Instead, over time, their freedom of movement becomes increasingly restricted. By the end of the book of Genesis, it is clear that they are trapped. And within the first few verses of the book of Exodus, it becomes clear that they have become slaves. From free men and women to slaves in just a few hundred years!
When the first Jews arrived in New Amsterdam in 1654, they had no illusions. Governor Stuyvesant wanted to expel them. He almost succeeded, but eventually he was ordered to allow them to remain. Since then, we have grown increasingly comfortable in America, and wave after wave of Jewish immigrants have arrived and prospered here. Yes, there were obstacles to our presence, including outright hostility, but we Jews have been blessed to live in a land characterized by religious pluralism in which our freedom and dignity have been guaranteed by law.
* . * . * . * . *
This past Sunday, I spoke with our seventh graders about antisemitism. After the recent attacks in the New York area, I felt it was necessary. Perhaps, I thought, they would have questions. Perhaps they would be anxious.
I was in for a surprise. Yes, most of the kids had heard about the attack in Monsey. (An instagram post had circulated among them.) But they expressed no concern. The kids were, in general, unperturbed.
Had any of them ever experienced antisemitism? "No," they all said. I pointed out that there have been several incidents in the Needham Public Schools during the past semester, including several in the high school and one in an elementary school. Nonetheless, the students didn't seem particularly concerned.
I was grateful for their sense of well-being. And yet, I was a bit troubled.
I've always been reluctant to put antisemitism on our religious school curriculum, for several reasons. My priority has always been for our kids to learn how to behave Jewishly -- and only then to learn how badly some people feel about Jews, and how terribly some people can behave toward Jews. I am also sensitive to how difficult it can be for young kids to be exposed to the depravities of antisemitism.
But at the same time, our kids do need help facing the world in which we live. And that world is evolving. Antisemitic incidents nationwide have dramatically increased. And as we know, these are taking place not just in society at large, but in schools as well.
"What should we do?" is a natural question to ask. Let's start by recognizing that we can't do it alone. We need to partner with other synagogues, and with the
ADL
,
JCRC
,
AJC
, and
CJP
. (Click on those acronyms if you are unfamiliar with them.) We need to explore the best ways to educate our children. We want to educate the
right
way -- and not the
wrong
way. We want to raise consciousness, and to prepare our kids for dealing with a world that can be hostile to Jews -- while at the same time fostering positive feelings about their Jewish identities. Our Educational Director, Alisa Levine, and I -- and hopefully several others from our staff --will be attending an upcoming seminar at Brandeis entitled,
"Teaching in a Time of Hate,
"
focused on this exact question.
I titled this piece, "The Best of Times and the Worst of Times." Actually, it is neither. We should not be naive; we should not be oblivious to the bigotry and hatred that exists around us. Nor though should we make the mistake of confusing the recent spurt of antisemitism with governmental legal oppression of Jews -- which unfortunately we Jews know too much about.
We must confront the bad news, but we should also recognize the good news as well. It can be summed up in four words: We are not alone.
Only days after Christmas, The Massachusetts Council of Churches distributed a letter that read, in part, as follows:
"To our Jewish siblings and neighbors, and to our fellow Christians,
"As Christian faith leaders, we reach out to share our sense of horror and disgust at the terrifying rise in violence against Jews and increasing public expressions of antisemitism. ... As Christians whose tradition has been and continues to be the source of so much antisemitic terror in history, we carry a particular responsibility to identify, condemn, and resist antisemitism in any and every form. ...
"In the coming days, please, everyone, reach out to Jewish neighbors, co-workers, friends, or acquaintances. Let them know they are not alone. Write them a caring text, email or letter. Share a note or sign of friendship and solidarity with a Jewish organization or synagogue. We need to lament these recent atrocities together, to share our heartache and to show our care, love and support in these tender, terrifying and fragile times."
Sure enough, within days,
I began to receive supportive emails and letters. The Reverend Maxwell Olmstead of the Dover Church wrote, "We have been appalled and horrified by the growing wave of antisemitic sentiment and violent attacks in our country and around the world. ... We are praying for you and your families' safety and emotional well-being."
And just the other day, the Reverend Nick Morris-Kliment of the Christ Episcopal Church brought over a letter of support to our entire congregation:
"On this day when "No Hate, No Fear" marchers make their way across the Brooklyn Bridge, we who are gathered here in worship this morning stand with them, and with you. We categorically reject the resurgence of contempt and violence being visited upon the Jewish people, and therefore upon us all. ... Please know that we here at Christ Church are blessed to be your neighbors, friends, and comrades in building a world founded on justice, peace and compassion...."
That letter was signed not only by Reverend Morris-Kliment but by dozens of parishioners:
