Kehillah Kedosha-We are a Holy Community

I was in synagogue this past Saturday.

I was there, like I am on many a Shabbat morning, to study Torah with a group of regulars who over the years have become like family to me. Sometimes I stay after Torah study to daven and sometimes, like on this particular day, I leave before the service begins in order to observe my Shabbat in a variety of ways usually filled with Oneg and Menucha. (Joy and rest.)

We are Jews. We observe.

We, who are regulars, often joke about our routines and our repetitions. We find ourselves sitting in the same sections of the room, if not the same seats from week to week. We know instinctively who will be late, who will be early, and we worry when somebody is missing, often calling or texting to check on their well-being. We know who are the active talkers and who are the passive but intent listeners. We openly welcome the newbie, warmly inviting them to our table and encouraging them to participate and badgering them to return.

We are Jews. We badger.

We bring each other breakfast and we help with the set-ups beforehand and the cleaning afterward.

We are Jews. Eating is a major component of our DNA.

We leave our coffee mugs in the shul's storage cupboards, a sign of our permanency in this space and we take turns teaching when the rabbi is occupied elsewhere. We are a close-knit community, we who have learned together, celebrated together and too often cried together. These are my people, my synagogue, my Jewish family, my community.

We are Jews. We are communal.

As I left shul on Saturday, I was blissfully unaware of the horror taking place at that exact moment at a sister community in Pittsburgh. When my phone started vibrating with intent, I instinctively knew that it was catastrophic. We all know these people. We are these people and we all know the hate that inspired their murders.

We are Jews. We know.

When the carnage was over and the dead revealed, I could see in my mind's eye the longtime members, the regulars, who are the spine and structure of every congregation. I could see the retired teacher who lost her husband two years ago. She is a face I see every week across my Torah study table. I recognized the two brothers who did everything together. They are the siblings in my congregation who lovingly care for their aged mother. I know the longtime married couple who attended weekly. They are my parents.

We are Jews. We understand suffering.

On the Shabbat before this last one, my Torah study cronies discussed the story of the Tower of Babel and whether or not The Divine Spirit was indeed punishing us with the fracturing of language. As is often the case with our discussions, we headed off into a tangental talk of modern anti-Semitism in our own community. A young man of the age of Older Son, a millennial for whom I have great respect, stated quite forcefully that he has never felt uncomfortable or held back from opportunity in his city or country simply because he is Jewish. I wondered aloud if that was blissfully generational and asked if others around the table felt similarly. There were people there old enough to recall a time in Toronto when Jews were barred from country clubs and public beaches. My own mother was part of a quota of Jewish girls accepted into her nursing program in the late 1950s. To this thirty-something, those stories were historical and distant. I gently reminded this gentleman that an avowed white-supremacist was standing for election for mayor of Toronto a mere two days later and that her following was vocal and growing. He simply couldn't fathom it and dismissed her as a crackpot. On election day, more than 25,000 of my fellow Torontonians voted for a woman who wishes me dead.

We are Jews. We understand the hatred is always there.

So, we are now in mourning...all of us...all Jews. We will leave the debates about responsibility to others while we bury our dead, sit shiva, and comfort our mourners. It is what we do, what we have always done. We search for answers where there are none and we search for scapegoats where there are many. In Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5 we read, "Whoever destroys a soul [of Israel], it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a life of Israel, it is considered as if he saved an entire world." We have lost eleven souls. We will return to fight for our lives, for our very essence, for our very right to be. We are diminished but we are not defeated.

We are Jews. We survive.

Zichronam Livracha. May their memories always be for a blessing.

I Apologize For Abandoning My Sunny Ways...The Stakes Are Just Too High

I have thought long and hard about whether or not I would post one more thing about this soul-sucking sideshow Americans are laughingly calling an election. As a Canadian peering over the backyard hedge, it is kind of like watching your neighbour dig a sewer near your house without having a say as to where it goes. That said, we Canadians refuse to pretend that this shitshow isn't affecting us. The old joke about when the US sneezes Canada catches a cold has never felt more relevant or true.

I had promised my readers distractions and generally positive posts leading up to November 8th, but the stakes are just too high. Trump's closing campaign ad which was released this weekend has been widely condemned and criticized by Jewish leaders as being filled with classic anti-Semitic tropes and images of Jewish bankers and monetary leaders.
The Anti-Defamation League has decried the ad for "rhetoric and tropes that historically have been used against Jews and still spur antisemitism.” Rabbi Jonah Pesner, the Director of the Religious Action Committee released the following statement:

We denounce, in the strongest possible terms, the use of contemptuous and historically anti-Semitic tropes in the recent campaign ad of presidential candidate Donald Trump. References to 'the establishment' and a 'global power structure,' juxtaposed over images of Jewish public figures, create thinly-veiled allusions to centuries-old anti-Semitic propaganda.  

This latest ad is, regrettably, part of a pattern of the use of such words and imagery that has been repeated by the Trump campaign over many months. There is no place in civil political discourse for the perpetuation of harmful and baseless stereotypes. It is the responsibility of every candidate for elected office to promote the interests of all Americans, without resorting to dangerously xenophobic and otherwise bigoted rhetoric or insinuations.

If you are a Jewish Trump supporter and you don't hear these dog whistles, then nothing I can do or say is going to change your mind or your vote. I can say that I am thoroughly disappointed that you have gotten so complacent and comfortable in your bubbles that you have neglected to recall the lessons of the past.

Last December I wrote the following post during Chanukah from Florida. It was early in the primaries and Florida was just gearing up for their dance. I am reposting it here because my sentiments from that time have not changed, except to say that I am more anxious and fearful for my friends, family, and neighbours to the south. Tomorrow is a crucial day in world history. I beg you all to get out and vote for the America that we the world know you are. Denounce hate. Renounce bigotry. The choice is clear. When we say never again, we mean for anyone.

Demagoguery

Tonight I lit Chanukah candles with a gentleman from my building who happens to be a Holocaust survivor. Since this is South Florida and it has been unbearably humid, he was suitably dressed for the climate in a short-sleeved golf shirt. As we chatted, it was difficult not to notice the numbers tattooed on his forearm. I have had many conversations with this man over the years and I have always marvelled at his strength and fortitude in keeping his horrific experiences alive in the hearts and minds of the next generations through his participation in education programs, speeches, and countless trips back to Auschwitz on March of the Living. But tonight, we were just a group of Jews lighting candles to recall our people's struggle against another tyrant living centuries before the one he survived.

And then I came upstairs and watched Donald Trump's latest foray into demagoguery. I watched as supporters at his rally shouted "Heil Donald Trump-THE ULTIMATE SAVIOUR"  and it sent shivers up and down my spine. Trump's completely fascist call to ban all Muslims from entry into the United States can no longer be dismissed as the ravings of fringe entertainer. Tonight he and his supporters entered a new realm of right-wing jingoism, Neo-Nazism, and totalitarianism that every thinking person in the United States and around the world should vociferously denounce. Usually, I am loathed to evoke memories of or comparisons to Hitler, and I can't ever remember calling up Godwin's law before, but Trump and his  supporters are definitely skirting a dangerous line. When protestors are physically attacked at his rallies; when overt hatred of Muslims is spouted by his supporters; when white supremacist organizations are now a solid part of his base; we can no longer ignore the comparisons.

I have had several conversations recently with Jews who are ardent Trump supporters and I have to admit to being baffled. Now I am just disgusted. It is no longer acceptable for Jews (or anybody else) to support this dangerous fascist bigot knowing what we know and knowing the extreme consequences of actions like the ones he is proposing. Trump's call to isolate and bar Muslims is one step away from the Judenfrei policies of Hitler's Nazis.

Tonight, in response to Trump's announcement, Rabbi Jonah Pesner, Director of the Religious Action Centre of Reform Judaism issued the following statement:

While we take no position on Mr. Trump's candidacy for president, we condemn in the strongest terms his comments calling for barring the entry of Muslims into the United States. As Jews who too often suffered persecution because of our faith, we cannot abide religious bigotry.

Our nation, founded by those fleeing religious persecution, is rooted in principles of religious freedom. The absence of religious tests for entry or for office and the freedom of every individual to practice their religion are sources of national strength, not weakness.

It is time for Jews of all political stripes to speak up and finally suppress Trump and his dangerous rhetoric. Jewish Republicans need to find another candidate and they need to say this man is anathema to everything that Americans hold dear. At this season when we recognize light over darkness, religious freedom over persecution, and rededication over hate, Americans must commit themselves to vanquishing this dangerous hyperbole before innocent people suffer. It is a debt that this generation of Jewish Americans owes to people like the man in my building.