R' Scott B. Roland

I recently saw a video of a bit by Persian Jewish American comedian Dan Ahdoot. There is no way I could do his routine justice, but it goes like this:

“I think Israel absolutely has a right to exist. I wish I didn’t honestly, because the Palestinian chants are just so much more fun than ours! They’re quick. They’re snappy. They rhyme. Even if you don’t agree with them they’re fun to sing. ‘THERE IS ONLY ONE SOLUTION INTIFADA REVOLUTION…FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE…’ Yeah, it’s a little genocidal, but the beat slaps! You listen to ours, they’re awful. Because Jews like to convince you with a bunch of facts and minutia, rather than just sticking to a catchy tune. They’re like, ‘Okay guys, we’re going to do one of those chants. It goes WHEN I SAY X, YOU SAY Y. X. Y. X. Y. Okay, here we go: When I say that in 1948 there was a UN partition plan giving a separate state of Palestine alongside a State of Israel and the Palestinians rejected it and then there was the war of Independence which against all odds we won, and then in 1967, there was the Six-Day War where all the Arab armies attacked us and then again against all odds we won, and then there was the Refugee Crisis Resolution 242 which we will take care of in a final resolution, and then in 1973 was the Yom Kippur War where Egypt and all the other armies attacked us and again we won, but we had to give the Sinai Peninsula back to the Egyptians in return for peace, and then in the 90s were the Oslo Accords which was only returned with the Intifada, and then in 2005 we gave Gaza back to the Palestinians and Hamas took over, and then Waze is an application that we all use to get us from one place to another a little bit faster, but let’s be honest, sometimes they make me turn left in front of three lanes of traffic and I don’t want to do that so I guess what I am saying is that every country has their problems, YOU SAY, ‘YEAH!’’’

Ahdoot ends with, “You know, Hamas actually has some decent points!”

Some may find this hysterical. Some may find it offensive. In either case, my point is that we have a tendency to advocate to others as if we are trying to convince ourselves.

Last week my teacher and our scholar in residence, Rabbi Ebn Leader, lifted up the idea that we Jews gave up a big part of our spiritual lives in order to be seen as “normal” and to be accepted by society post enlightenment and emancipation. I want to add that in addition to talking about God, and angels and demons, many of our ancestors left their particularism and their tribalism in the ghetto in favor of integration into secular society.

I hate to say it, but it hasn’t worked. Sure, there may have been some years better than others. One could say that there was a time, not so long ago, when it was possible for Jews to live life in some diaspora countries without thinking about anti-Semitism all that much. Now, we live in a world where we are so inundated with anti-Semitism that we don’t always see it. It is like the parable of the older fish who asks a pair of younger fish, “How’s the water?” One of the younger fish turns to the other and questions, “What is water?”

Sociologist and associate fellow at the Institute for Jewish Policy Research, Keith Kahn-Harris, wrote in the “Forward” in 2019 that we Jews need to come together to fight the Anti-Semitism all around us. However, Kahn-Harris argues, “This is easier said than done, because there is a form of anti-Semitism that is not only much more prevalent, but also impedes collective Jewish efforts to fight the most virulent kinds [of anti-Semitism].” Kahn-Harris called this, “Selective anti-Semitism”. He says:

“It combines contempt for some kinds of Jews with love of another kind. The kind of white supremacist who loves the right-wing Israeli government and its right-wing Diaspora supporters, while scorning liberal-minded Jews, is one kind of selective anti-Semite. The kind of leftist who identifies with the non-Zionist Jewish tradition and its contemporary heirs, combining it with disgust at the dominance of Zionism in mainstream Jewish life, is another kind…Selective anti-Semites may not even be seen as anti-Semites by those Jews who are treated by them as “good Jews,” who ignore their antagonism towards other kinds of Jews.”

As I mentioned this article was written in 2019, when Kahn-Harris’ book on anti-Semitism was published. We do not have to look beyond our own backyard to see the path this theory has followed over the past five years.

Exhibit A: Ohio Republican Representative, Max Miller, was raked over the coals for calling out former Ohio Right to Life activist, Liz Marbach, for comments insinuating that there is no hope for anyone outside of Jesus. In response to Miller’s reminder of religious freedom, many on social media tell him that he is starting to sound like one of those Bernie Sanders Jews.

Exhibit B: Cleveland Jewish Collective’s leader, Rabbi Miriam Geronimus, stood before the Cleveland City Council and recited Kaddish, not for the Jews that were brutally butchered, raped, and murdered on October 7th, but while an anti-Zionist activist stood next to her reading the names of deceased Palestinians. A little more than a week ago, Miriam addressed the CWRU Gaza Solidarity Encampment wearing a Palestinian Flag kippah. With these remarks and others, she separated herself from the vast majority of Jews who are generally supportive of the Jewish State.

These examples of selective anti-Semitism may not be obviously equivalent, but they are. Representative Miller calls out anti-Semitism in his own political camp and is immediately likened to a Jew on the opposite end of the political spectrum. He is acceptable to those in his camp as long as he conforms to their sociopolitical worldview. Of course, a worldview with Jesus at the center is antithetical to Jewish belief. Rabbi Geronimus echoes and amplifies the calls of anti-Semites and is acceptable, even as a Jew, to those in her anti-Zionist camp. At least she is acceptable as long as she does not conform to the Zionist leanings of 80-90% of American Jews.

We Jewish people have invested so much in bridge building and Holocaust education. We have worked tirelessly to prove to the world that we have what to give, in spite of everything that has been taken from us. Yet, time and time again we are singled out to be victims of the oldest and deepest types of hatred. I am tired, I am angry, and I am sad. I imagine many of you feel the same.

Comedian Dan Ahdoot is right. We can throw all of our might into explaining our existence. Yet, I am doubtful that it will ever be enough to combat the meaningful hatred that hides behind catchy slogans and internet lies.

So what do we do? Our parasha commands us, Kedoshim tihyu, “You shall be holy”. The word Kedoshim means, “set apart”. That which is holy is set apart to be used for a particular purpose, be it in service of God or man. Of course, in English the word “holy” comes from an Old English word meaning, “whole”. What should we do at this moment? We shall be holy. We shall be whole. That is to say that we Jews should be fully and unapologetically us.

In May of 1982, Prime Minister Menachem Begin addressed Israel’s Knesset to call a vote on his government’s decision that Israel’s national airline, El Al, should no longer fly on Shabbat and holidays. As you might imagine, the parliament was in an uproar. Hecklers threw one accusation after another at the Prime Minister, which he refuted. As he descended the rostrum, Begin turned to make one final statement:

“Mr. Speaker, allow me just one further point. This House should know, it is not necessary to be an observant Jew to appreciate the full historic and sacred aura that enshrines this ‘perfect gift’ called Shabbat. Its prohibitions are not arbitrary. They provide insulation against corrosive everydayness, they build fences against invasions by the profane, and they enrich the soul by creating a space for sacred time. In a word, one need not be pious to accept the cherished principle of Shabbat. One merely needs to be a proud Jew.”

Prime Minister Begin was trying to teach an important lesson. In order for the world to respect us, we must respect ourselves. The resolution passed.

As I said, I am tired. I am angry. I am sad. I am all of these things because I refuse to be anything other than wholly, and holy, me. This is who I am. This is whom I know my people to be. I will not hide, I will not run, and I owe no explanations.

Before a part, let’s do one of those cheers. When I say, “Shabbat Shalom”, you say, “Amen”.