Some years go by quickly. Some go by slowly, and others are a whirlwind. This has been one of those years. If you can remember back to last High Holy Days, our sanctuary was filled just like the pre-pandemic days; they were full of energy and a reaffirmation of Temple Sinai’s vitality. We held amazing family services led by Rabbi Schachter, with so many young families, so many new families. Simchat Torah was also filled with joy. I love the way we celebrate Simchat Torah here at Temple Sinai.It’s relaxed and accessible; we unroll the entire Torah scroll so everyone can see its beauty. We sing with our cantors and klezmer band. We dance. We give out candy. All in an hour. Then, as they did in ancient days, we scarf down pasta and pizza!
The next morning, we awakened to a nightmare. As many of you know, Rebecca works for UJA and most of her colleagues are Sabbath observant. Unheard of on Shabbat, her phone was exploding and we could not believe what we were hearing. Soon, members of our own congregation were hearing about their Israeli loved ones’ tragic fates. Two cousins murdered. The fiancé of a nephew, kidnapped. A hurricane of murder and savagery.
In just a few hours, everything changed. Everything. Then, just as we were beginning to absorb the magnitude of the carnage, unbelievably, we saw protests, large protests suddenly pop up against Israel and really, against Jews in general – in Manhattan, on college campuses, and elsewhere. Student groups were declaring that Israel got what it deserved. Condemnations were coming fast and furious—not of Hamas, not of the rapists and murderers and butchers, but of their victims.
At first, it was hard to believe, impossible to believe. Israel was attacked with a viciousness and a sadism we couldn’t fathom. And bubbling up was a hatred for us that would poison every arena of power in this country. One day one of our college kids would tell me how she was accosted and called a racist and genocide-lover, and then I’d read an opinion piece in the Times applauding the very protestors who attacked her. Or the student who was all but locked out of her campus by kids wearing kufiyahs and masks, who assigned themselves the right to decide who was a good Jew — a Jew who hated Israel was a good Jew, and who was a bad Jew — a Zionist was a bad Jew.
It was all very unsettling to say the least, and all the while, our hearts were in our throats because the hostages and their families still suffer horribly. Because the grief-stricken are still grief-stricken. Because Israel is fighting a war on three fronts. Because Israel, alone among the family of nations, is told it isn’t allowed to defeat its enemy when attacked.
We here at Temple Sinai are half a world away from our beloved Israel, and yet again, we demonstrated that love and solidarity know no geography. We snapped to attention, as you all know. In this most difficult year, Temple Sinai shined with sacrifice, with generosity, and with a steely resolve. If we needed any evidence of Temple Sinai’s essential role in our community, this year taught us. How it is vital to teach our children the importance of Jewish peoplehood. How Temple Sinai must be a refuge, a place for Jews to gather and know we are family especially in tough times, and know our collective strength. A place to learn and seek counsel; to discuss how to respond to the vitriol, how to protect our kids, how all Jews are responsible for one another, and how proud we should be, even now.
If this year has taught us anything relevant, it is this: The Jewish community here in Nassau County, our children of today and tomorrow, are counting on us.
