Finding Joy In Protest

This past week has been difficult for the Jewish community. My phone rang last Shabbat, even before Shabbat was over with the news about how the Neo-nazi, KKK, white supremacist march had turned deadly in Charlottesville.

Oh, no, I thought, as I silently prayed. I have friends, rabbis and ministers who went to Charlottesville, heading the call to non-violent protest. Oh, no, I thought, my brother went to University of Virginia. How can this be happening.

And the question was, what would we do in Elgin. What could we do?

What we do best. We came together as a community. Not once, but twice. Once, a quiet candlelight vigil. Once a rally on city hall plaza. The process of putting events together like this is one of patience and negotiation. And trust. And humor. And a beer later.

There are many memories created on Friday. An impromptu prayer circle lead by Pastor Katie Shaw Thompson. My rabbinic colleague, Rabbi Jonathan Kohn, choked with emotion reading the Prayer for Our Country, My congregant Mark Seigle talking about his family’s journey to Elgin. Every speaker seemed to have exactly the right words to say. Mayor Kaptain, Chief Swaboda, Representative Anna Moeller, Junaid Afeef, Pastor Jeff Mikyska and Joyce Fountain. Ed Hanson’s chants were spot on. Danise Habun coordinated and emceed perfectly.

What follows are my words at the rally:

I want to introduce you to my good friend, Pastor Jeff Mikyska. He is the pastor at Holy Trinity Lutheran across the street from CKI and he has become a good partner in ministry and a good friend. We have spent many hours talking about these kinds of issues and he has offered his building as a refuge, G-d forbid anything like Charlottesville happens here. Together we are hosting Elgin’s annual Interfaith Thanksgiving Service sponsored by the Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders and it will take place in both buildings.

This may surprise you—but doing this kind of speaking has me out of my comfort zone. Maybe attending has some of you out of yours. And this kind of rally—while we put it together quickly, doesn’t happen over night. It happens because people have been working together to build relationships and trust for a very long time. So when the phone rang on Saturday…I was touched but not surprised and yes, of course, Elgin would do something.

My parents didn’t want me to be a rabbi. They were afraid. Very afraid. They were not Holocaust survivors but they lived through World War II. They had heard the vitriol of Father Coughlin. They had seen, I had seen the goosestepping German bund on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. My mother ran for park commissioner in Evanston after she was told that the swings were not up in the park because “those people” might sit on them. Then she had a knife drawn on her by a member of the John Birch Society—a known hate group. When we moved to Grand Rapids, I had fellow Girl Scouts look for my horns. My parents were clear—anti-semitism and racism is real. Anti-semitism and racism, even today, are everywhere. As Jews we should not rock the boat. As Jews we have an obligation to speak up. To stand up. My parents stood up.

Being a rabbi would be too visible. I would be too likely a target. I didn’t listen to them. Because in Judaism, I found another model. I learned about Edmund Flegg who said,

I am a Jew because in every place where suffering weeps, the Jew weeps.
I am a Jew because at every time when despair cries out, the Jew hopes.
I am a Jew because, for Israel, the world is not yet completed; we are completing it.
I learned about Anne Frank who said,

“In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart… I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right….”

And Eli Wiesel, who said when accepting his Nobel Peace Prize,

“And then i explain that the world did know and remained silent. and that is why I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must take sides.”

Those words ring so true today. Never again. Never be silent. Take sides. Stand up and be counted. Stand up for the victims. They are the core of who I am as a person, as a Jew and as a rabbi. I am compelled to stand up and to hope.

We can’t be naïve—or turn a blind eye. This is not something that only happens in Virginia. The very weekend last year that Elie Wiesel died, Fourth of July Weekend, a Nazi flag was displayed at the Kane County Flea Market. It was only war memoriabilia, we were told. A quick search of the purveyor’s website confirmed that he was a avowed white supremacist.  Do not be naïve.

Sadly, there is not a Hebrew School student over 5th grade who hasn’t had some issue with anti-semitism. U46, Districts 220, 300, 301, 303, 220, and Elgin Academy. Jokes about pizza ovens are not funny. Throwing pennies at Jews is not funny. Looking for our horns is not funny. These play on old stereotypes—the very stereotypes that lead to the beliefs that the white supremacists use—the very words we heard last weekend.

But there is hope. The hope comes from all of you. What you have done by coming today, taking time out of your busy schedules, is to stand up. To stand up bigotry. To racism. To anti-semitism. To Islamaphobia. To Homophobia. To stand up and say there is no place for the KKK, Neo-Nazis or White Supremacy here in Elgin.

And I stood in this very place a little over a year ago after the Pulse Night Club murders, with many of you. I prayed that we would never, ever have to stand here again. I was wrong. My prayer was not effective. Because here we are again. Because we can not stand by while our neighbor bleeds. We cannot stand by without taking sides. We need to be clear. There is no place here for hate.

 

I ask for a moment of silence for all the victims of violence. For Heather Heyer and others who were injured in Charlottesville. For those on the streets of Chicago. For those right here in Elgin. For those in Barcelona. Wherever there are victims of violence.

Take this pledge with us:

Today I pledge to #StandUp against Hate and #StandUp for Respect.
I will:

  • Unite with diverse communities & educate myself on how to be an effective ally
  • Protect my neighbors by building welcoming communities

Thank you.

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