Dear Friends,
I was on the Guilford Green yesterday evening when I heard a man speaking English in what sounded to me like an Israeli accent. I approached his bench, and said s’licha (‘excuse me’ — this excessively polite gesture instantly outed me as an American). We began to converse.
Ech atah mistader, I asked — how are you holding up?
Ko’ev, ha lev koev, he replied — hurting. My heart hurts. Machzik ma’amad — But I’m holding on.
I nodded. I put a hand on his shoulder. As I looked at his face I noticed a cap was obscuring his kippah Hashem Itanu, he said. God is with us.
God is with us.
The response was classic Israeli. We’ve been through tough times. We’ll make it through this, too. I didn’t have to ask this man whether he had lost anyone to the violence; whether he had any family members or friends serving in the IDF, facing imminent danger. I didn’t have to ask.
As Israel fights for its very right to exist (what other country has to do this?) battles are being waged both in Israel and abroad. Here in the USA, we’re seeing the rise of hateful protests and violent antisemitism on college campuses. A recent Harvard poll found that 51% of 18-24-year-olds found Hamas’s terrorist carnage “justifiable” given the Palestinians’ grievances. A Cornell professor called Hamas’ brutality “exhilarating.” Angry protests at the Universities of Michigan and Wisconsin targeted Jews with hateful rhetoric. Neo-Nazis joined in the fray. At Cooper Union, Jewish Students were locked in to the library to protect themselves from protestors banging on the doors, screaming, “Long Live the Intifada.” There are too many others to mention here.
It used to be that college was where our young people learned to think broadly, critically. Now our elite institutions are harboring one-sided, hate-fuelled propaganda. One thing we can do is reach out to all of the college students in our lives, and see how they are doing. This week, I hosted an open Zoom space to process, grieve, and respond. I’ll schedule further sessions as is helpful.
As I write this, we are reading parashat lech lecha, the Torah Portion when Abraham and Sarah leave their home in search of our promised land. God tells them along the way, “I shall make your name great. And you shall be a blessing.” (Gen 12.2) My childhood rabbi, Rabbi Mark Shapiro z”l, loved to point out that this phrase is grammatically imperative. “Be a blessing,” says God. There’s no other option.
A Midrash on this portion has Abraham questioning God:
“Master of the Universe, You made a covenant with Noah that you would never destroy his children. Then I came along and pleased you better, so my relationship with You overrode his. Perhaps someone else will come along and please you better than me, so that his relationship with you overrides mine? God replied, “Among Noah’s children there are no righteous people who intercede for others, but among yours there will be.”
We Jews are a nation of helpers— a people who hate the suffering of all innocents, regardless of borders or life circumstances. You’re continuing to ask how to intercede, how to help. Here are three additional worthy causes you may wish to support:
• Assuta, a hospital in Israel near the Gaza border
• Educare IL, a non-profit organization founded in order to promote resilience and prevent violence in Israeli society, through the research and implementation of empirically-based training programs for therapists, educators and parents
• New Israel Fund Emergency Safety Net Fund is working in several key areas: 1. Basic care for vulnerable groups; 2. Combating violent speech and incitement online; 3. Preventing inter-communal violence in mixed Arab and Jewish cities; and 4. Mental health and trauma counseling.
I thank you to everyone who has reached out to help, pray, and care for our siblings in Israel and here at home. Together, we will make it through this. We will be a blessing.
Shalom, Shalom, fervently and soon,
Rabbi Moss