Voices

The Jewish Press

(Founded in 1920)

Margie Gutnik

President

Annette van de Kamp-Wright

Editor

Richard Busse

Creative Director

Lori Kooper-Schwarz

Assistant Editor

Gabby Blair

Staff Writer

Sam Kricsfeld

Digital support

Mary Bachteler

Accounting

Jewish Press Board

Margie Gutnik, President; Abigail Kutler, Ex-Officio; Seth Feldman; David Finkelstein; Ally Freeman; Mary Sue Grossman; Les Kay; Natasha Kraft; Chuck Lucoff; David Phillips; and Joseph Pinson. The mission of the Jewish Federation of Omaha is to build and sustain a strong and vibrant Omaha Jewish Community and to support Jews in Israel and around the world. Agencies of the JFO are: Institute for Holocaust Education, Jewish Community Relations Council, Jewish Community Center, Jewish Social Services and the Jewish Press. Guidelines and highlights of the Jewish Press, including front page stories and announcements, can be found online at: www.jewishomaha.org; click on ‘Jewish Press.’ Editorials express the view of the writer and are not necessarily representative of the views of the Jewish Press Board of Directors, the Jewish Federation of Omaha Board of Directors, or the Omaha Jewish community as a whole. The Jewish Press reserves the right to edit signed letters and articles for space and content. The Jewish Press is not responsible for the Kashrut of any product or establishment.

Editorial

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Letters to the Editor Guidelines

The Jewish Press welcomes Letters to the Editor. They may be sent via regular mail to: The Jewish Press, 333 So. 132 St., Omaha, NE 68154; via fax: 1.402.334.5422 or via e-mail to the Editor at: avandekamp@jewishomaha.org. Letters should be no longer than 250 words and must be single-spaced typed, not hand-written. Published letters should be confined to opinions and comments on articles or events. News items should not be submitted and printed as a “Letter to the Editor.” The Editor may edit letters for content and space restrictions. Letters may be published without giving an opposing view. Information shall be verified before printing. All letters must be signed by the writer. The Jewish Press will not publish letters that appear to be part of an organized campaign, nor letters copied from the Internet. No letters should be published from candidates running for office, but others may write on their behalf. Letters of thanks should be confined to commending an institution for a program, project or event, rather than personally thanking paid staff, unless the writer chooses to turn the “Letter to the Editor” into a paid personal ad or a news article about the event, project or program which the professional staff supervised. For information, contact Annette van de Kamp-Wright, Jewish Press Editor, 402.334.6450.

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The Jewish Press (USPS 275620) is published weekly (except for the first week of January and July) on Friday for $40 per calendar year U.S.; $80 foreign, by the Jewish Federation of Omaha. Phone: 402.334.6448; FAX: 402.334.5422. Periodical postage paid at Omaha, NE. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to: The Jewish Press, 333 So. 132 St., Omaha, NE 68154-2198 or email to: jpress@jewishomaha.org.

That’s a wrap

ANNETTE VAN DE KAMP-WRIGHT

Jewish Press Editor

It feels a little weird, this secular calendar that tells us things are ending and we’re making a new start. We already did that back in September, and having it happen twice (although maybe less hectic than during the high holidays) seems overkill. Yet I can’t escape the feeling that it’s time to wrap things up. There is something exciting about fresh starts—even when they are purely calendar-driven and mostly exist because of the majority culture that surrounds us. Come Jan. 1, we can start a new diet (I’ve had two sufganyot already today and it’s not yet 3 p.m. so that’s a great idea) or take on a new hobby. Maybe we’ll get a puppy or start a new class. Home renovations, reading all the books we didn’t get around to this past year and try out a cooking class. The possibilities are endless when you tell yourself you should start over. Of course, come January, our non-Jewish neighbors will take down those festive lights, our schedules will be a little less hectic and even the last piece of Hanukkah gelt will have disappeared. The weather will still be too cold and many of us will have the winter blues. No wonder we try to imagine a clean slate. The thing is, while our real New Year happens elsewhere on our calendar, we live here. Maybe it is not such a bad idea, telling each other to make 2023 a happy one. I think there is something to be said for taking a moment and wishing each other well. We already spend more than enough time

moping about a variety of things, so dedicating a few seconds here and there and telling our loved ones, family members and friends, colleagues, even total strangers ‘I hope you have happiness for the next 12 months,’ can be a good thing. There is an article on the front page of this paper about Clean Speech Nebraska. I hope you read it, from beginning to end. I also hope, after reading it, you join us. Since we’ve been working on this initiative behind the scenes for quite a while, I’ve become incredibly conscious of how often I make the wrong choice. How many times per day I have the opportunity to speak kindness, but don’t. How often I complain about things I see on the news, the price of groceries, how long it takes the Immigration and Naturalization Service to process my paperwork, why the salt truck always seems to skip the street I live on. There are endless chances to complain, to nag, to point out things that bother me. What if, when I notice I’m complaining, I instead choose to say something kind? Redirect those impulses? Sure, we have every right to kvetch when the likes of Kanye speak ill of us, but does it help us if we continue the cycle? Can we ignore the hurt and choose to do or say something positive instead? What would the world look like if we did that consistently? We can start small. No, this is not our New Year. But we can be secure enough in our Jewishness to understand that wishing everyone we meet a Happy New Year costs us nothing. Kindness costs us nothing. Clean Speech costs us nothing. So, from me to you, I wish you and everyone in your circle, a very happy and healthy 2023. Let’s all bring a little more light into this world.

Hanukkah is the holiday that America needs right now

RABBI ISAIAH ROTHSTEIN

JTA As a young child I often wondered why people light the hanukkiah, or Hanukkah menorah, in so many different places. Some light the candles on their front porches and driveways, some in the streets, others at in city parks, and a very select few even light candles at the White House. But with the recent rise of antisemitism, some only shine their lights in the inner chambers of their home, a place that feels safe and secure. As the Shulchan Aruch, or Code of Jewish Law, warned centuries ago, the mitzvah of persumei nisa, or publicizing the miracle (Talmud Shabbat 23b), was contingent on the dangers of institutional antisemitism and our enemies’ desire to extinguish the Jewish people’s light (Shulchan Aruch, O.CH, Hanukkah 3:5). In America today, our democracy faces a similar problem. The barrage of threats to our civil society, increased polarization and a heightened threat from domestic extremists are pushing the light away, to the detriment of us all. Many Americans today feel that they cannot express their true identities because of how others might perceive or treat them. The fear of rejection, the fear of violence, or worse, cause too many to hide their light, acquiescing to the oppressor. Hanukkah literally means to rededicate, rebuild, reconstruct — our institutions and ourselves. We are to fix that which has been broken so we can reimagine what is possible for the future. During this festival of lights, we are reminded to embrace our unique identities, regardless of what oppressive systems might dictate. As a proud American Jew whose ancestors on one side fought in the American Revolution while other ancestors were enslaved on American soil, and as an Orthodox rabbi working to build communities of the 21st century that work for everybody, I understand the way systems of oppression conspire to extinguish our lights. Systems of oppression are often described using “the four I’s”: ideological, interpersonal, institutional, internalized. The Greco-Syrians of the Hanukkah story opposed the Jewish people’s relationship to God and the Torah (ideological), forced the Jewish leaders to coerce their loved ones to publicly defame the Torah (interpersonal), renamed Jerusalem “Antiochus” and decried that Jews remove their mezuzahs, sacrifice pigs and write above the door of their houses “there is no God in this place” (institutional). Finally, they caused many Jews to embrace the ways of their oppressors (internalized). That’s why I believe that just as the Jewish people need a Hanukkah to usher in a time for light in the face of much darkness, America needs a Hanukkah, too. With ideological and culture wars pinning social groups against one another, many search in the darkness for even a few Maccabees to remind Americans what our democratic seal still stands for. In the year 164 BCE Antiochus of Greece breached the doors of the Jerusalem Temple, defiling the sacred, leaving but one flask of oil. Though not a direct parallel, in the year 2021 C.E., a dangerous mob of white supremacists breached the doors of the United States Capitol building, defiling democracy and sending defenders running for their lives. America needs a Hanukkah because our light still burns strong and we must recommit to the democratic ideals of our nation. America needs a Hanukkah so that when we come across darkness and hate in the media, we can combat that rhetoric with language of justice, love and openness.

America needs a Hanukkah because when walls and windows are breached and broken, whether in 2021 or 2,200 years ago, it is hard to believe one would ever see light again. The Alter Rebbe of Lubavitch taught: “A little light dispels a lot of darkness.” The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. taught: “Darkness cannot drive out

The “National Menorah,” erected by Chabad-Lubavitch in front of the White

House in Washington, Dec. 2, 2021. Credit: Kerem Yucel/Anadolu Agency via Getty Images darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” For thousands of years, lighting the hanukkiah was an act of protest, reclaiming who we are, reclaiming our stories and rededicating ourselves to the past lights, and the ultimate restoration of the menorah’s light in a rebuilt Jerusalem. A time when systems and structures exist where all people feel like they can bring their light, and that they belong. As we approach the winter months and the year ahead, let us remember there is always light, and we must let ours shine.

Rabbi Isaih Rothstein is the Rabbinic Scholar and Public Affairs Advisor for the Jewish Federations of North America.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.

JONATHAN A. GREENBLATT

JTA Unless you have been living under a rock for the past few weeks, and even if you’re not Jewish, you can’t miss the fact that antisemitism is back in the news: Kanye West, Kyrie Irving, Nick Fuentes; extremists returning in droves to Twitter; President Donald Trump kowtowing to antisemites over dinner at Mar-ALago; Saturday Night Live opening with a monologue trafficking in antisemitic tropes; members of the Black Hebrew Israelites intimidating Jewish fans coming to Barclays Center, and an endless feedback loop of antisemitism coursing across social media. If there’s one thing I’ve learned as CEO of the Anti-Defamation League, it is that when it comes to the Jewish people, hatred doesn’t discriminate. When Kanye says Jews control the music industry, he’s not talking about rich Jews or conservative Jews. He’s not singling those who may support Likud or those who back Meretz, two Israeli political parties. He’s not calling out Orthodox Jews versus Reform Jews. He’s talking about us all. Same with the white supremacists who are circulating Great Replacement conspiracy theories about Jews conspiring to bring more people of color and immigrants into America to “replace” white people. They don’t care if you are a die-hard MAGA voter or a card-carrying member of Democratic Socialists of America. It doesn’t matter: If you’re Jewish, you are in their crosshairs. Another unfortunate example is the Mapping Project, an insidious campaign that ostensibly accused pro-Israel Jews of conspiring together in Boston. However, it didn’t target only Zionist organizations. They targeted all Jewish organizations, from a nonprofit helping the disabled to a Jewish high school. And yet, while our enemies see us as one, the Jewish community too often seems riven by discord and infighting. We are divided around religious practices and beliefs. We are deeply riven by politics. We do not see eye to eye when it comes to the State of Israel, and at times we can’t even agree on the definition of antisemitism itself. At times, absurdly, some Jewish leaders seek to tear down other Jewish leaders even as it tears apart the community, as Steven Windmuller, a retired professor at Hebrew Union College in Los Angeles, recently documented. I point this out not to diminish the value of debate and dissent — these are fundamental to our tradition. But we need to be mindful of when debate descends into division. Usually in the aftermath of antisemitic attacks such as we saw after the Tree of Life shooting or the hostage situation in Colleyville, Texas, Jews from across the political spectrum set aside our differences and come together in a show of unity. We lock arms, proclaim we are one, call on our policymakers to do more, put up our defensive shields and hope for the best. But at a time when a celebrity with a cult-like following, Kanye West, is using his platform of 38 million-plus social

media followers to spread hateful tropes about Jews, I would argue that the locking-arms response, while effective in the moment, does not have the staying power that we could achieve if we had a more unified and close-knit Jewish community. What does have staying power? In this uniquely fragile moment, we must choose to embrace our differences, or at least accept them and lean into Ahavat Yisrael, the love for our fellow Jews. We ferociously can disagree internally while standing completely united to external hate. We are our brother’s keeper, and any Jew suffering from antisemitism is ultimately our responsibility. We must come together, despite our differences, and fight those who hate our people. How can Jews stand together against antisemitism while respecting our ideological divides? First, this isn’t a moment to try to win each other over. This is a moment to declare that every Jew matters and is worth protecting. We may disagree on many things, but we can appreciate that difference doesn’t have to equal division. We cannot allow the toxic partisanship that has seeped into so much of our society to poison our communal spaces. There are no “Tikkun Olam” Jews. There are no “Trump” Jews. There are only Jews, and we need to remember the dictum — you shall love your neighbor as yourself. Second, we should recognize that self-defense starts with self-love and self-knowledge. Jewish literacy is essential to our long-term survival. Many like to remark how Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel prayed with his feet — but he did so in part because he wrapped tefillin with his hands. This is not to say that we all need to observe our faith in the same manner. There are plenty of Jewish people who opt out of ritual entirely, and yet their connection to our peoplehood is as strong and as valid as those who daven, or pray, every day. But shared values that emanate from Torah still bind us as a people — we need to redouble, not just our efforts to pass on these values to our children in ways that relate to the next generation, but we also must relearn these values ourselves. Third, we must never allow our ideological blinders to gloss over or ignore antisemitism from those who are generally our political allies. We must be morally firm and call out antisemitism where we see it, and not just when it is convenient politically. We must be equally fierce in the political circles where we belong, where we ultimately have more influence and clout, as in simply calling out hatred by pointing to those on the other side. During his lifetime, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson shared his wisdom about the fact that while every Jewish person is a unique individual, as a people we share a “basic commonality that joins us into a single collective entity.” The Lubavitcher Rebbe understood that this unity has sustained the Jewish people throughout history. If we look to our ancestors, we can see examples of how holding together at times of strife has made our community stronger. It’s quite possible that we may be living in one of those difficult periods again. I hope we can meet the moment.

Jonathan A. Greenblatt is CEO and National Director of the ADL (Anti-Defamation League) and the author of It Could Happen Here.

This article was edited for length.

Credit: Stefano Montesi/Corbis via Getty Images

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