Oct. 3, 2024
Israel and American Jewish Response
Shanah Tovah u’metukah – a good and sweet New Year to everyone!
Over the last several months, my rabbinic colleagues and I have been meeting periodically over zoom, to compare notes, share ideas, but mostly just to ask each other – ‘what are you going to say on the High Holy Days about Israel?’. We all knew we were going to give at least one sermon about Israel – there was no way not to, it’s the elephant in the room – but what could we say? What do our congregations want to hear? What do they need to hear? Most of all, how can we give words of comfort and hope, when for some many of us, comfort is unavailable and hope difficult to locate. But the Prophets teach us, no matter how difficult or frightening the message was that they had to convey, they always ended with words of nechemta – words of comfort.
Don’t worry, I will end with a nechemta, I promise!
It has become almost a cliché in the Jewish community to say we are living in a new reality. There is the pre-Oct. 7 reality, and the post-October 7 reality. Although for many, particularly in Israel but to a large extent across the Jewish world, we are not post-October 7, but stuck in October 7.
So much has changed in our world. Most obviously, of course, Israel has been fighting an existential war for, horrifyingly, just a few days short of a full year now. As frightening and fraught as is the war and the accompanying death and destruction for both Israelis and Palestinians, the world’s response has been almost as frightening. Anti-Semitism had already been rising alarmingly in the last few years, but since October 7, the vitriol and hate that has poured out, not just against Israel but against all Jews, has been deeply disturbing. Responses from people and institutions that we had thought were our friends and allies ranged from total silence to full-throated support for Hamas and calls for an end to the Jewish state.
The thing is, on some level, we always knew the anti-Semitism was there. It just didn’t used to be so safe to express it, or, as it now is in so many spaces, so cool. It has shaken our sense of safety to an extent that most American Jews have not experienced before. In a recent American Jewish Committee poll, 60% of Jews surveyed said they feel unsafe disclosing they are Jewish, wearing Jewish symbols, attending events at Jewish institutions, or expressing support for Israel with their friends or online. The Jewish community for the last year has been dealing with feelings of pain, grief, anger, fear. And these feelings are compounded when the rest of the world is either indifferent to our pain, or telling us we have no right to these feelings. Psychologists identify this feeling as ‘Disenfranchised grief’ - when society doesn't validate your own grief. But we know our grief and our fear is real and comes from many fronts.
First and foremost is the deep grief and trauma we all feel, Israelis most of all but also Jews around the world, for the horrendous acts of terrorism, murder, rape, and kidnapping of innocent men, women, and children on October 7, and the ongoing horror of Israelis and others still in captivity, the youngest of whom turned one year old in captivity last January and is still a hostage, along with his five-year old brother.
We fear for Israel’s security and the safety of every Israeli. We grieve along with the approximately 100,000 Israelis who are still displaced from their homes in both the north and the south, wondering when, or if, they will ever be able to return home. A reporter based in Israel recently observed that both parts of the country are deserted, and noted that Israel, already a tiny country, has contracted.
We also fear for Israel’s future as both a Jewish and a democratic country, as Israel’s government, like many others around the world, has been taken over by racist demagogues and religious extremists. Judaism allows for the concept of a just war, a war waged in defense of the Jewish people. This war, of all wars, is manifestly that. Those of us who believe in Israel’s right to exist, and its right and obligation to keep its people safe, understand the necessity of doing what must be done to put an end to Hamas’ ability to perpetrate these atrocities ever again. But that does not mean we do not have conflicted feelings about the consequences of this war.
It is natural for human beings to want things to be simple, to reduce every situation to a binary – good vs evil, oppressor vs oppressed. But we Jews live always with nuance, with complexity. We are a people who question and who argue, and who see many sides to any issue.
So, while many Americans see Israel as a military power bombarding a helpless civilian population, we understand that Israelis see they are one small country surrounded by enemy states and terrorist organizations funded and armed by Iran. While the American press writes about Israel’s ‘invasion’ of Lebanon, we understand the Hezbollah is the military arm of Iran, dedicated to Israel’s destruction, and has been bombarding Israel with rockets since Oct. 7.
We American Jews know we can support Israel and yet deplore Netanyahu’s policies and those of his racist and extremist government. We can be Zionists and also support Palestinian aspirations for their own homeland and government. We can oppose illegal settlements and settler violence and yet understand Israel’s very real need for security measures at the borders between Israel and the West Bank and Israel and Gaza. We trust that the IDF is doing what it can to reduce civilian casualties, while doing what it must to eliminate Hamas’ ability to perpetrate another Oct. 7, and to end Hezbollah’s ongoing attacks. We can be, and should be, horrified at the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, while understanding that most of the blame falls on Hamas, who deliberately embeds its fighters among the civilian population and cares little, if at all, for the destruction and loss of life among their own people.
In the first months of the war, as Israel was subjected to criticism and condemnation from all corners of the United States and around the world, the response of the Jewish community often was framed as ‘don’t you understand, Israel is the victim; and the rise of anti-Semitism means Jews around the world are victims.’ After a while, though, my friend, Rhonda Lindner, some of you know her, said to me, ‘you know, I’m tired of being the victim. I want to lean into resilience, not victimhood. I want to emphasize how strong we are. Through 4000 years of oppression, we’re still here, we’re strong, and we’re not going anywhere!’.
It’s true - After 4000 years of oppression, we are still here. Through conquests, expulsions, destruction of Temples, Crusades, Inquisitions, pogroms, Holocaust, we’re still here. And Israel is still here, and will continue, despite any dire predictions to the contrary. And we are still here, American Jews, standing up to support our Israeli siblings, combatting anti-Semitism here at home, and not just outright anti-Semitism, but ignorance and indifference from our non-Jewish friends and community members. And we are supporting each other, and respecting that we may have differences of opinion and we may respond differently to events in Israel and here at home, and that’s OK.
Most importantly, we have to stay grounded in our principles and values as Jews. 8/10 American Jews say Israel is important part of Jewish identity. Start there. We cannot allow ourselves to be put on defensive with our non-Jewish friends in standing up for Israel’s legitimacy or justifying our attachment to the land and the people, an attachment most non-Jews do not understand. Also, when we talk with them about Israel and Zionism, establish up front that Zionism is not a zero-sum game, it can co-exist with Palestinian identity and nationalist aspirations.
We need to educate non-Jews about Judaism, Zionism, Jewish identity, the Jewish connection to the land and people of Israel. As I said, most non-Jews have no understanding of our connection to the land and people of Israel, because they do not understand that Judaism is more than a religion. We cannot allow others to define for us who we are, what makes someone Jewish. We are a people, a nation, a civilization, tied together by a common history, language, culture, and ties to our ancestral homeland, and yes, tied together by our faith.
And so, the nechemta – where do we find hope and comfort, even in these dark and difficult times?
All of Judaism is founded on hope, on the Idea that people can change, that nothing is inevitable. Think about how miraculous it is that we are still here, after all we have been through over 4000 years. Every other ancient peoples, when conquered and exiled by a mightier people, disappeared into history. But we survived conquest after conquest, exile after exile. When Rome destroyed the Second Temple and we could no longer worship God through sacrifice, we should have disappeared, as every other ancient sacrificial cult has done. Instead, we pivoted, and prayer, charity, and acts of lovingkindness took over from sacrifice. Through 2000 years of exile, we maintained our traditions, our rituals, our language, our connection to the land and to each other. Most miraculous of all was the founding of the state of Israel - the impossible made possible. No wonder that Israel’s national anthem is HaTikvah – the Hope.
Hope is embedded in the resiliency of Israelis and of world Jewry. Within the American Jewish community, there were two possible responses to October 7 and the subsequent outpouring of antisemitism. – we see both responses throughout Jewish history – one is to wash one’s hands of all of this and to say it’s just too hard to support Israel and/or to be a Jew and I’m just going to assimilate. But by and large this hasn’t been the response. Instead, Jewish engagement in US is up in many measures - donations to Jewish organizations, synagogue attendance, engagement with Jewish institutions across the board are up in Jewish communities across the country. A recent American Jewish Committee survey found 85% of American Jewish adults believe it is important for the U.S. to support Israel in the aftermath of October 7 and 57% of American Jews report feeling more connected to Israel or their Jewish identity after October 7 than before.
I also find hope and reason for optimism in the Israeli people, hundreds of thousands of whom have been in the street protesting the Netanyahu government practically since they took office. And I take hope and optimism in the fact that there are so many Israeli-Palestinian organizations that have been fighting for years for mutual understanding and peace, that are still working together even in the wake of October 7.
Some of these organizations include the Parents Circle Family Forum, an organization started in 1995 and co-led by Jews and Palestinians, all of whom have lost a loved one due to the conflict. Seven hundred families belong to the organization. Members of the Parent Circle spoke recently on a webinar and talked about their work. Among their projects is a Parallel Narrative program, which invites people from both communities to engage in dialogue to hear each other’s stories, not to challenge or convince, but just to listen and learn. They also run a summer camp which brings together 40 Israeli and Palestinian teens for five days of shared experiences. One of the kids was quoted as saying it was the – “best summer of my life because it alleviated fear of the other.”
The Arava Institute, located in the Negev, brings together Palestinian, Israeli and Jordanian environmental students to work together to protect the environment they all share. Peacebuilding is an integral part of the work. The Arava Institute has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize for its “ground-breaking work in the fields of dialogue and diplomacy, climate engagement, education, and research”.
Rabbis for Human Rights has been working since 1988 to advocate for civil rights, interfaith understanding, the rights of asylum-seekers and other marginalized populations, and for Palestinian rights in Israel and in the occupied territories. Last year, my husband spent part of his sabbatical volunteering with Rabbis for Human Rights, protecting Palestinian shepherds from threats from settlers and interference from the IDF, and packing food boxes for impoverished Muslim families in Israel.
These are just a few examples of the inspiring work that is being done in Israel, even in the midst of the trauma of war. Please take a handout on your way out with a list of these and other organizations doing this important work. Please lend your support to promote a peaceful solution, not just to this war, but to the conflict that has been going on since before Israel’s independence.
One last moment of hope I want to share with you, a lesson in not making assumptions. Last spring, I needed to find West African desserts for an event I was organizing. I found a West African store near me that I had never visited before. When I walked toward the store, I saw the storefront had a mural showing a Muslim family. I had a momentary thought that perhaps I should hide my star. But I decided I didn’t want to hide who I am – if they didn’t want to serve me, or said something antisemitic or against Israel, I would just leave. I walked in, and it was an amazing place with beautiful clothes, housewares, decorative objects, and a little food. The woman working there greeted me, asked what I was looking for. We got to chatting, sitting together on a sofa in the store, talking about food, clothes, all kinds of things. Neither of us said anything about religion, Israel, politics, we just chatted and got to know each other. Other customers came in and I rose to leave so the sales lady could get back to work. As I was gathering my belongings, she said to me – ‘our community is praying for peace in Israel’. My eyes filled with tears as I thanked her and left. It was an important lesson for me – you never know where you are going to find allies and friends.
On Monday we will gather together at 7:00pm to observe the one-year anniversary of October 7, to mourn together, and hopefully to gain some comfort and strength in one another’s company. Our world has changed, and we will perhaps never go back to feeling completely safe, if ever we did. But we can and must continue to support each other, support our Israeli family, and to lift up the vision of a better future for all, Jews and Muslims, Israelis and Palestinians. Ken yehi ratzon – May it be God’s will.
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