Today we say goodbye to the year 5777, and hello to 5778. To 5777 we say goodbye and good riddance. Not all years are made equal, some worse, some better. And, while 5777 was certainly not the worst we have suffered, it certainly was not one of the best of them either.
I, personally, would like to throw out 5777 altogether.
Throw out racism, anti-Semitism, Islamaphobia, Homophobia, bigotry and hatred.
I would like to throw out politics, and for that matter – distrust, disunity, and dysfunction, among our leaders and among ourselves.
Throw out the twenty-four hour newsfeed, and our obsession with things that tear us apart, instead of bringing us together.
Throw out the KKK, the Nazis, the Neo-Nazis, White Supremacists, the Alt-Right, and the dead wrong.
While I am at it, I would like throw out the rally in Charlottesville and all the websites and chat sites dedicated to spreading hatred.
And, certainly throw out hurricanes, especially ones by the names of Harvey and Irma.
In the Jewish community, I would like to throw out all the distrust among different denominations, among different ways of being Jewish, the in-fighting and the out-fighting, and, all the fighting in between.
We all need cleansing. We all need healing. We all need a fresh start. It is time to just throw out, or rather to recycle (thank you Joe Morris and the Green Committee) 5777.
If you are with me, small slips of paper with 5777 printed on it are being distributed around the room. Crumple one up into a little ball and put it in one of the recycle bins being carried around the room.
Now, that we have done that, I want to use my time with you today to talk with you about building trust in the New Year. By trust I mean knowing that when we fall there is someone behind us to hold us up, that we are not alone, as Jews, or as human beings.
Here are three stories that happened this past year that give me a great deal of hope as we head into the New Year.
The first story happened in May, and involved a community that we have often been at odds with over issues such as Israel, and the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions campaign. These are our Muslim neighbors. And, while we share a common ancestry, both being the children of Abraham, there has been a great deal of distrust between our two communities. Accusations of Islamaphobia and Anti-Semitism are frequent occurrences as we feel ourselves on opposite sides of the political spectrum.
The Muslim community in Western New York is roughly the same size as our local Jewish community. But, while our numbers are shrinking, theirs are growing, with many new immigrants having recently arrived into the area. In many ways their journey to America echoes our own journey in first half of the 1900s when Jews came en masse from Europe. We should feel a great deal of camaraderie, but sadly this has not been the case.
So, when a terrible fire broke out in May in a small apartment owned by the mosque in Lackawanna, I was not sure whether our Shir Shalom community would want to be involved. In addition to the physical damage to the structure, a mother and her two young children were in the hospital in serious condition, arson the likely cause.
Still, encouraged by a congregant we put out a call to raise money for the family. I expected a few hundred dollars to come in, but instead was pleasantly surprised to learn that in the space of a few days we were able to raise over fifteen hundred dollars. I was grateful to be one of the envoys of that check to the mosque during their Friday prayers. The Imam and the family were overjoyed at our contribution.
Earlier last winter a hundred or so members of the Muslim community came out to the Jewish Community Center in Getzville bearing potted plants and kind words in response to the bomb threats the JCC had received a few weeks before. And, many members of the Jewish community came out in support of Syrian refugees at earlier rallies in Niagara Square.
There has been a shift in our relations, and while we may never fully see eye to eye, we now have begun to build trust that we can work together in new and imaginative ways in the future.
The second two stories both took place in August the week after the Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville and are marks of increased Anti-Semitism, both locally and nationally, that reemerged this past year. In fact, that week in early August was the first time I had confronted anti-Semitism so directly, so shamelessly.
My family and I were on vacation in South Jersey the week of the rally. During that time I only paid attention nominally to the events that were happening in Virginia. And, therefore was shocked to discover that Monday that a swastika and Jewish star had been spray painted on a slide at the playground of my children’s school, Windermere Boulevard Elementary.
As a rabbi, as a parent, I knew we needed a response and I began making phone calls on Tuesday morning to figure out next steps. Within a few short hours a gathering had been organized at the playground for later that afternoon. Notices went out on social media, and the television stations were notified.
With such short notice, I had expected a few dozen people to show up, but when we pulled up to the school we saw there were almost a hundred people present – the administration of the school, the media, and concerned community members from all over the area. Seeing children slide down the newly repainted slide, feeling joyful in a space that had been contaminated just twenty four hours before, brought tears to my eyes.
Most important to me, was the reaction of my nine-year-old daughter Jarah, who afterward remarked to us that she had not expected to see her non-Jewish friends. She thought because the incident involved a swastika and a Jewish star, only her Jewish friends would be there. “No,” we told her, “we are all in this together.” How great for her to learn that her friends had her back.
Two days later, in my third story, I was confronted with the hard reality of anti-Semitism again. This time it was at a public event, where several hundred people had gathered to address the events in Charlottesville. At a small African American church in East Buffalo, I sat on the podium listening to speaker after speaker condemn the heinous act perpetrated when a car deliberately rammed a crowd of protestors and all the hatred and bigotry that had been allowed to occur there.
There was no air-conditioning in the church and it was sweltering. After a while one speech blended into the next, until the unexpected happened, someone said something that seemed unforgivable at the time.
One of the other clergy, a tall African American man with a white goat-tee, said, as an aside, “but the Jews, some of you have it okay, you’ve made it all right if you know what I mean.” It was the old story of Jews being well off, not having suffered hatred like other disadvantaged groups in America. The other Jewish participants on the dais, Lana Benetovitch, Cantor Penny Myers, and I sat with our mouths opened, unsure of how to respond.
Now, before you judge Rev. James Giles, of Back to Basics ministry, let me tell you about his response. Right away he realized he made a mistake quickly putting together an apology letter and personally making calls to any Jewish representatives that had been in the room during the vigil.
I received my call at 6 PM that Thursday, right before my family and I were about to sit down to eat. And, I listened to what Rev. Giles had to say. I knew it was not easy for him. Afterward, I told him that this was a learning opportunity, we all make mistakes, especially those of us who speak for a living. We should use this as a jumping off point, to deepen the relationship between the African American and Jewish communities. And, then I invited him to services the following night.
Sure enough he showed up. I thanked him for coming, and in the middle of the service invited him to speak. I did not expect Rev. Giles to apologize, but that is exactly what he did. Explaining what had happened at the vigil and asking our forgiveness for his insensitivity.
We do not always realize the prejudice we contain inside, until one day it comes out. Rev. Giles, as a fine upstanding preacher and human being, had the courage to make amends. I am hopeful that this will lead to continued dialogue between his community and ours, perhaps turning one thoughtless remark into positive change in the world. This is what we call in Hebrew teshuvah, repentance. And, I have good news that Rev. Giles and I have continued our discussions and hope to go to Israel together in early December.
To have true Bitachon, trust, security, you must be willing to fall, and you must be willing and able to catch as well, even when someone has made an insensitive remark, even for a community we have been at odds with in the past.
So, I welcome 5778 with open arms. This is not the time to be discouraged about humanity. It is the time to see possibilities where possibilities did not exist before. Let us not go into the New Year with a heavy heart, a lev cabed, let us go knowing that we are not alone, that our community is not alone, that no relationship is irreparable, and that no matter what lies ahead for us, we can count on one another, as allies, friends, and neighbors.
Hate has no home here, only hope does.
A Shanah Tovah U’Metukah, a sweet and beautiful New Year!!!
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