Desire Lines

My walk to Oheb takes me across Grove Park. Dotted with giant, 200-year-old trees when we moved to town a few years ago, the ash blight has turned the park into a sunny field distinguished by just a solo playground. The paved walkway encircling the park serves as a track for the morning runners and stroller-walker set, and keeps us off the beautifully maintained green grass that no longer encircles age-old trees.

My walk doesn’t really start where the paved pathway does, and so I cut across the grass. I’m not the only one. There is a dirt groove, a ribbon of brown icing across the green frosted cake of lawn. Many of us, it seems, needed – wanted – a path where there wasn’t one, and so ended up (without organizing, without trying to) creating one of our own.

This is known, in urban planning parlance, as a “desire line.” I love that. I love that there was a plan, and it was a very good one, and still serves so well: the park, the grass, the playground. But over time, desire shifts. Needs change. “We paved the paths already!” you can hear the frustrated urban planners sighing. “We planted the trees and set it all up!” Yes. And also, there’s this desire line, over here. Come look at what else.

We have wrinkle lines, frown lines, tanning lines, to say nothing of the scars, tattoos, and other evidence of desire—or its opposite—written in these bodies of life lived. Desire lines are the paths worn into the ground by repetition. Unplanned but chosen, over and over again.

I love that the launch of the school year coincides in the northern hemisphere with Rosh Hashanah and our High Holy Day season. Right now, it is Elul, the last month of the year 5785. Our kids have a new start with new teachers, and we too crave a new beginning and give it to ourselves thanks to the Jewish calendar. A new year, we declare. The shofar calling us, beckoning us to see the desire lines we’ve unwittingly sown into the soil of the four seasons behind us. Looking back is the only way to see the path we are on.

“Please teach me Your way,
And lead me on a level path…”
(Psalm 27:11)

How do we stay on level ground? How do we make sure it’s not all uphill—or even worse, all downhill? Psalm 27, the psalm of this season, can be on our lips every day from now through Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, straight on through the end of Sukkot. Are we asking for God’s help, or for one another’s? Both?

What kind of friend do you want to be? What kind of partner, what kind of child to your parents—be they dead or alive? What kind of parent to your children—be they dead or alive? Whom do you desire to become in 5786, and what paths must you tread to become that person?

In the coming weeks, we will, I hope, have much time together. It feels like a new beginning we make together. With all that we desire. My path brings me straight across Grove Park to each of you. I hope to sing with you, and pray, and laugh. I hope to share tears of joy and sorrow, and stories of love, hope, and faith.

May the desire lines we tread together lead us to the places we dream of going. May they guide us into hope when hope seems far, into strength when the way feels steep, into joy when the grass grows over old roads and we find ourselves ready to walk anew.

This year, may we walk not alone, but together. May our steps make new grooves in the earth, worn not by habit but by heart. And may those paths, unplanned but chosen again and again, carry us—toward one another, toward the Source of Life, toward the future we dare to desire.

It’s Back-to-School Time


Summer is unofficially over as of Labor Day, although there are still about 3 weeks until the seasons officially
change.

Kids want summer to go on forever; their parents are happy to see school on the horizon, and older folks
are amazed at how fast the summer has flown by.

We welcome fall in the library with a selection of books about back to school, learning, and finding one’s place in
the world, making new friends, and how to face challenges.

For many additional titles, check the online catalog.

Blumberg, Ilana. Open Your Hand seeks to answer the question of how teachers deal with the issues of the
21st century. (NONFICTION)

Hiranandani, Veera. The Whole Story of Half a Girl. Sonia, half-Jewish and half-Indian, must find a way to
adjust to a new school when her father loses his job and she goes to a public middle school. (JFIC)

Jules, Jacqueline. Drop by Drop: The Story of Rabbi Akiva. Encouraged by his wife, 40-year-old Akiva
learns to read. (PICTURE BOOK)

Kaufman, Bel. Up the Down Staircase. First published in 1964, this fictionalized look at a year in a New
York City high school is a funny, poignant, modern classic written by a granddaughter of the famed Yiddish
writer Sholem Aleichem. (FICTION)

Littman, Sarah. Some Kind of Hate. Freshman Declan injures his pitching arm. In his anger, he becomes
involved with white supremacists and turns against his Jewish friend. When violence occurs, Declan has to
decide what side he’s on. (YAFIC)
|
Oren, Dan. Joining the Club: A History of Jews and Yale. Covering the years 1809, when the first Jew
graduated from Yale, to 1988, this book was the first analysis of anti-semitism in an American university. It is
both a history of Yale and a study of the social mores of the time period. An interesting read in light of what
is happening at universities now. (NONFICTION)

Polacco, Patricia. The Bee Tree. An expanded tale of the old custom of spreading honey on the letters of
the Aleph-Bet as a child first learns to read, this beautifully illustrated story shows the close relationship of a
grandfather and his young granddaughter. (PICTURE BOOK)

Schroeder, Peter. Six Million Paper Clips: The Making of a Children’s Holocaust Memorial. In order to
help understand the Holocaust, middle school students in a small all white, Protestant town in Tennessee
collected 6,000,000 paper clips. The ultimate result was the Children’s Holocaust Memorial. (JNF)

Weatherford, Carole Boston. Dear Mr. Rosenwald. Seen through the eyes of Ovella, the reader learns the
story of Julius Rosenwald, the president of Sears, Roebuck and Company, who funded scores of schools in
the South and the impact these schools had on the communities they served. (PICTURE BOOK)

Wiemer, Liza M. The Assignment. When they protest an ill-conceived class assignment to debate Hitler’s
Final Solution, Seniors Cade and Logan involve the entire community in the controversy. Based on a real incident from 2017. (YAFIC)

Summer in the Book


As the summer begins to wind down (even though it’s not officially over until September 22), let’s try to capture some of its last glory and intensity through books set in the summer. The following fiction and nonfiction books are available in Oheb’s library.

Yael Van de Wouden’s The Safekeep takes place during the hot summer of 1961 in the Netherlands. It’s long enough after World War II, that all should be calm. But Isabel, living in her mother’s house in rural Netherlands, discovers that some wars are never really over and things are not always as they seem. This novel was short-listed for the Booker Prize and winner or nominee for many other literary awards.

Anat Talshir’s About the Night is set in the summer of 1947, a perfect time to fall in love. But Elias and Lila come from two different worlds: Elias is a Christian Arab; Lila is a Jewish Israeli. He lives on the eastern side of a divided Jerusalem, while she lives in the western part. This is a never-ending love story plot.

Allegra Goodman‘s Kaaterskill Falls takes place in 1976 in upstate New York, where scores of religious Jews make the trek from the city to one of the many summer communities. The story focuses on the restless Elizabeth and the confused Andras. The village’s Rebbe also has his struggles, as does the local judge, who is faced with the problem of overdevelopment that will change the village’s character. This book was a National Book Award finalist and winner of the Edward Lewis Wallant Award.

Laura Amy Schlitz’s The Hired Girl has escaped her dull, hard life on a Pennsylvania farm to work as a maid in a wealthy Jewish household in Baltimore. It’s the summer of 1911, and the work can be as difficult as farm work in its own way, especially when Joan finds herself out of her element trying to understand this family whose customs are so foreign to her. This young adult novel is an award-winning coming-of-age book that also has appeal for adults.

Gayle Forman’s Not Nothing features 12 -12-year-old Alex, who has to spend the summer volunteering at a senior residence. His relationship with one of the residents, a Holocaust survivor, may change his life.

Leslie Kimmelman‘s book about friends Sam and Charlie (and Sam too) at Camp is a low-key early chapter book about friendship and the outdoors. It is suitable for readers just beyond easy readers.          

Elizabeth Lenhard’s The Ball of Clay That Rolled Away is a perfect summer picture book. The setting is pottery day at summer camp, when the clay goes rolling out of the pottery shed where it was being molded into Jewish ritual objects. Will it be stopped before it ends up in the lake?

As the October 7 War nears its second anniversary, one wonders if peace and friendship can ever be achieved between Palestinians and Israelis. Some people feel that people-to-people contact is the way to achieve understanding, if not peace. Sharing Our Homeland is Trisha Marx’s photo essay on the Summer Peace Camp, which has brought teens from both sides together for many summers. Amazingly, the camp is still going strong, although under much different circumstances since the October war began. Read about the Youth Peace Camp and the long-running Seeds of Peace, located in Maine.

Summer Nonfiction


Lots of people shy away from nonfiction, thinking that it’s going to be dense, dry, and dreary. But well-written nonfiction, especially narrative nonfiction, can be as exciting as the latest best-selling mystery or romance. Biography easily lends itself to good narration since it’s the story of people’s lives, while history is a close second when it tells the story of true events.

As with previously recommended books, these are available in both the BCCLS system and in our library.

My favorite new Jewish interest non-fiction book is The Art Spy by Michelle Young,  the story of museum curator Rose Valland who, during the Nazi occupation of Paris, almost single-handedly saved a massive number of works of art from being snatched illegally by important Nazis. Especially important was a large collection of degenerative art. While Valland was not Jewish, many of the art collectors and dealers were since Jewish collectors and their collections were targeted. I found this to be a compulsive read, even though I knew the basic story of Mlle Valland and the brutal treatment of the works of art.

Called “riveting” and “a welcome contribution to the literature on slavery,” Fear No Pharaoh: American Jews, the Civil War and the Fight to End Slavery by Richard Kreitner looks at the issue of slavery in the 19th century through the eyes of six Jews, including Judah P. Benjamin and Ernestine Rose. Though fact-filled, the vivid prose should carry the reader along.

Timing is everything, and the timing of its publication affected the publicity for Chuck Schumer’s very personal Antisemitism in America: A Warning, which was released right at the time when Schumer supported President Trump’s budget proposal. This is a deeply personal look at the history and state of antisemitism with which a reader may disagree. But it is accessible and an important read for our fractious times.  Tangentially related is the now classic How Jews Became White Folks and What that Says About Race in America by Karen Brodkin.

Young readers and their grown-ups — especially those who play tennis — will enjoy the picture book biography Perfect Match: The Story of Althea Gibson and Angela Buxton by Lori Dubbin. Both American Althea Gibson and British Angela Buxton had a difficult time being accepted in professional tennis circles in the 1950s, Althea because of her race and Angela because of her religion. They ultimately teamed up and became tennis champs. Angela’s career was cut short by injury, but Althea went on to win the singles match at Wimbledon. Colorful cartoon-like illustrations clearly show the friendship between the two players.

This last featured non-fiction book is for the whole family. What Jewish Looks Like,  authors Liz Kleinrock and Caroline Kusin Pritchard highlight the vast variety of individuals who called themselves Jews. Included are historical figures as well as contemporary figures from all areas of achievement and identities. The simple, colorful illustrations by Iris Gottlieb jump off the pages, and the individual often seems to be caught mid-motion or staring right at the reader. Each double-page spread includes a biographical entry as well as a quick fact or two about the person. This is not a typical group biography. Readers of all ages will be amazed at the variety of ways to be and look Jewish.

On Immigration and Minding My Own Business

A friend of a friend was just released after three weeks of detention at Delaney Hall, the immigration pen in Newark. He was taken there when he went to renew his work visa. Everyone who knows him is outraged for this quiet, law-abiding, gentle family man, who’d shown up for work every day for years and was making a life for himself and his children here in the USA.

You have not hired me to tell you how I think you should vote or what flavor of politics you prefer to consume. Despite what the IRS ruling this week tells me or any synagogue we can or can’t do, I have zero intention of letting something as temporal and spiritually unhelpful as contemporary politics affect how we build community together.

What you have asked me to do, however, is teach Jewish values and wisdom. It is in that role that I now write. If it affects how you vote, or what you send to which elected officials or which peaceful demonstrations you choose to participate in, that’s on you – which is to say, each of us chooses how we put Jewish values and wisdom into action. This is as true of how we keep kosher and shabbat as it is of immigration and due process in our national life.

Which brings us to our trivia question of the day: what is the most-repeated mitzvah in the Torah?  

“When strangers reside with you in your land, you shall not wrong them. The strangers who reside with you shall be to you as your citizens; you shall love each one as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am YHVH your God.” (Leviticus 19:33-34).

According to the Talmud, this mitzvah is taught 36 times (actually they are arguing, is it taught 36 or 46? Either way, it’s a lot.). For comparison’s sake: Honoring your parent? Twice. Matzah on Passover? Twice. Love your neighbor? Once.

Why does this one get repeated so many times? In my mind, it’s repeated because it’s hard. It’s so easy to dissociate, to care more about what’s going on in our own communities. I’m thinking of the line “then they came for us” – but I hesitate, because (more trivia) that line was not written by a Jew. It was written by a Lutheran pastor named Martin Niemöller who was a Hitler fan and an avowed anti-semite. Except he wasn’t a fan of the way the Nazi politics interfered with the church, and so he was sent to Dachau in 1938, where he stayed until 1945. After the war, he wrote the famous poem:

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist
Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist
Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew
Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me

The story of someone doing teshuvah after they experienced the tortured oppression their political leanings caused others – I think that’s what the Torah is getting at. Love the stranger. Do not oppress them. It’s super important, so learn it over and over and over again, 36 times, double chai. It is a key to life itself. 

Immigration is foundational to the Jewish experience and story. We barely last in the Garden of Eden. Noah packs it all up into a boat and lands someplace new to start over. Abraham leaves the country of his birth to the land God would show him. Jacob and his sons negotiate over and over with those among whom they live. Joseph is sold into slavery, to emerge a powerful leader in Egypt. He brings the rest of his family to join him – that’s how the Israelites end up in Egypt in the first place. Moses is born into an oppressed minority people – and is then raised by the oppressors, only to flee to Midian as a young man to be received with kindness there. All that before the Exodus story becomes our foundation myth par excellence, the one we sit around a table and tell our children every year lest we forget our roots.

Because we did not govern a land of our own for millennia, and because we have lived in Diaspora since the year 70 AD if not 586 BCE, the immigrant experience is baked into the Jewish psyche. Intuitively, we recoil at the idea that the country in which we reside now could be inhospitable to law-abiding people seeking a life here. It is a reflex mechanism born of our own intergenerational experience as well as the values that have since the beginning shaped us.

Jewish law does not give specific advice on how to solve the immigration challenges this country is facing. It makes no claim about the status of people who come to a place unlawfully. When the new king arises at the beginning of Exodus, “who knew not Joseph,” he fears the growing minority population, the descendants of those immigrants who’d come generations before. Out of that fear, he treats them harshly. The harshness in turn begets plagues and more suffering, on all sides. The story is not about policy decisions, although the Israelites are expelled from Egypt. The story is a tale of ethics. That oppression is never the way to solve social problems.

That friend of a friend has been released and is in his NJ home with his family. The law may determine he stays, or he goes. All I know is that Jewish teachings hold that whatever happens to him and to all immigrants must happen without oppression, with the sense of dignity and respect given to all humanity, with care bordering on love.

Rabbi Treu’s essays may also be found on Medium.

Summer Fiction


Whether you’re lazing by the pool, relaxing on the beach, or just staycationing, summer’s the time to catch up on reading.

Here are some suggestions for great Jewish-themed books. Because of budget constraints , our library does not have all the books mentioned here. But your local public library consortium should.

Historical fiction fans, especially those who loved The  Weight of Ink by Rachel Kadish, will enjoy Jodi Picoult’s latest, By Any Other Name. Picoult frequently writes about women’s lack of empowerment. This split-screen novel posits that a lowborn British converso wrote much of Shakespeare’s work. This plot is set against a contemporary female playwright’s attempt to have her feminist play produced. This well-researched book is filled with authentic details as well as the requisite romance.

On Her Own by Lihie Lapidus has all the elements of a good read: a bit of a mystery, an evil man,  a disaffected young woman looking for love and acceptance. The book is set in Israel and also deals with the role of the expat and the question of where is home.

The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden takes place in post-World War II Netherlands. Isabel lives alone in the family home in Amsterdam.  Her peaceful routine is upset when her brother’s girlfriend begins a long stay . Intense with psychological family drama, passion, and questions about the fate of Dutch Jews in the war, this novel was judged one of the best of 2024.

Younger readers — and adults, too — should read award-winning author Adam Gidwitz’s duology,  Max in the House of Spies and Max in the Land of Lies, featuring young Max, who pre-World War II is trying to return to his family in Germany. He becomes a spy and infiltrates Nazi Germany. Gidwitz is able to infuse real humor into a serious book for middle-grade readers and beyond. Also by Gidwitz is the very funny, but likewise serious, The Inquisitor’s Tale: or the three magical children and their holy dog about three children who journey through France in 1242 on their quest to save Jewish books that are to be burned. It’s a cross-generational book — a sort of Jewish Canterbury Tales — that’s a great read-aloud, too. Who can resist a book about kids and a dog?

Next time, the focus will be on non-fiction. Happy Reading!

Poetry for You, and a Prayer Too

“I have no idea what world we will be living in by the time Shabbat arrives,” began one of my favorite teachers, Reb Mimi Feigelson, speaking from the Schechter Institute in Jerusalem a few days ago. This felt right-on, the acknowledgment of the uncertainty of things right now. Also the sense of disconnect tinged with foreboding shared by Donniel Hartman and Yossi Klein-Halevi in their podcast episode recorded hastily last Friday morning, in the hours after Israel had attacked Iran but the missiles had not yet started falling in Israel: “This is not how wars are fought here; watching on TV, from afar.” The missiles came shortly thereafter. Since then, Oheb families have seen their loved ones spend the week hiding in shelters; at least one has lost their home (you can support this family here). Which oversimplifies the complexity of all we hold. At a listening circle yesterday, what came up was bewilderment, despair in lots of directions all relating somehow to this war, from the antisemitism it has unleashed here on our shores, to the despair for Israel, to heartbreak for the suffering in Gaza and Iran, to not knowing how to hold being Jewish in an awful war being filmed in real time as it unfolds. I think that’s why that comment from last week stayed with me: for now, we are watching something awful unfolding from afar. It both directly affects us as Jews and as Americans as well. How all of this feels new for us, even if in the history of humanity there is, in the words of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) “nothing new under the sun.”

Poetry and prayer are perhaps more useful right now than prose. “What are you holding onto right now to give you a sense of a world that you can feel alive in?” Reb Feigelson asks. I share this week some poems and prayers, offered in hopes of helping us deepen into a sense of being alive, of tending to the intimate and transformational. Tonight, light shabbat candles – even if you don’t always get to it. The world needs our light, our Shabbos pause. We need the light. We need the respite. Perhaps recite one or more of these poems as you do. We need the connecting inward, to help us touch something alive in us, to help us make sense of all that we hold and witness in this world this week. With God’s help, may we create for ourselves and one another a shabbat shalom.

A Prayer for Groundedness in Troubled Times
by Rabbi Deborah Waxman (President, Reconstructing Judaism)

המקום  Hamakom, the One who comforts mourners, be with us in these days of pain and worry. As our hearts tremble, bolster us in strength and empathy and in our understanding of their unbreakable intertwining.

המקום  Hamakom, the God who creates and transcends space, encourage us in finding a quiet place to settle our nervous systems and discern what is most important to us.

המקום  Hamakom, the Omnipresent, help us to see the vastness of the universe and the beauty of each of its details. Support us in holding the world’s multiplicities and complexities, even in the face of rising extremism and burning conflict.

המקום  Hamakom, our Refuge, aid us in navigating the dance between stillness and action, tikkun nefesh/repair of self and tikkun olam/repair of the world, humility and agency, and discovering what we can contribute at each moment.

המקום  Hamakom, God of capaciousness, give us the expansiveness to hold our dear ones ever closer and to work toward peace and equity on behalf of people we will never meet.

עֹשֶׂה שָׁלוֹם בִּמְרוֹמָיו הוּא יַעֲשֶׂה שָׁלוֹם עָלֵיֽנוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל וְעַל כָּל יוֹשְׁבֵי תֵּבֵל.

Oseh shalom bimromav hu ya’aseh shalom aleyn ve’al kol yisrael ve’al kol yoshvei teiveil.

May the One who makes peace in the highest heaven help us to make peace for all Israel and for all the inhabitants of the world.

Good Bones by Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful

Excerpt from A Jewish Prayer for Juneteenth by LilyFish (Note: this may look a little odd on your phone, as it’s designed to be read in two columns, emulating a Torah scroll. Click the link for the proper layout.)

my ancestors wandered to eretz yisrael once, our siblings four times.
we celebrate each step toward liberation
every nissan 15, every June 19
and still we seek freedom.

each of us

may each of us
may each of us
may each of us
may each of us
may each of us
may each of us
wade in the water like nakhshon
reach the mountaintop
learn what it is to do good
devote our souls to justice
aid the wronged
remove the shackles of another

until there are no shackles left
until our stories have been quilted together
until we are all in the promised land
until we have build eden together
amen

Rabbi Treu’s essays may also be found on Medium.

I Might As Well Be Invisible – For Kenneth

The morning is bright and beautiful as I walk down Fifth Avenue through midtown. I’m lost in thought. Taking in the people, the sunlight, the storefronts. Accompanied by the mind’s ceaseless chatter: did my daughter get to school on time, did she remember the folder on the counter, did she study enough for the test? The friend waiting for the diagnosis, I wonder if she’s heard back, I should call her. I never did call this other person back, and shoot, the laundry is still wet in the washing machine. My feet hurt, I wore the wrong shoes for this walk. The flotsam and jetsam of the churning mind, as I walk past crowds of people. Astounding, I think, that each of us is an entire world inside. 

Continue reading

June is Pride Month


Jews have been at the forefront of human rights. So it’s no surprise that Jews were also very much involved in rights for LGBTQ+ people. To mark this month, I’ve chosen four books that either discuss LGBTQ issues from a Jewish point of view or center on Jewish characters. In our library there are many other books related to LGBTQ+ issues.

Torah Queeries: weekly commentaries on the Hebrew Bible. Looks at all 54 weekly readings with the goal of opening up new insights and engaging all readers to open up new insights and engage regardless of orientation. (Adult)

Lamb, Sacha. When the Angels Left the Old Country has everything: romance (straight and queer), adventure, a demon and an angel and lots of awards including a Stonewall and it’s a great story. (Young adult)

Sass, A.J. Ellen. Outside the Lines is the story of autistic 13-year-old Ellen who is trying to navigate friendship, her feelings for girls, and her need for order. (Juvenile)

Gordon, Meryl. The Flower Girl Wore Celery features Emma who is to be the flower girl at her cousin’s wedding. But there are surprises, like two brides, for Emma who takes things very literally. (Picture Book)

A Letter From the Clergy of Congregation Beth El, Oheb Shalom Congregation, and Temple Sharey Tefilo-Israel

As community religious leaders, we take pride in serving diverse and integrated congregations in the proudly inclusive towns of Maplewood and South Orange. We are deeply saddened by recent posts on SOMA Facebook groups that aim to undermine the use of local synagogues as part of the SOMSD District Preschool Program.

Our synagogues proudly partnered with the district to help offer free, high-quality preschool education for all families. When the district sought additional space to accommodate hundreds of students eligible for the program, it reached out to churches, synagogues, and private schools. After thorough vetting and significant investments of time and financial resources, we worked to meet district standards. The classrooms we host are governed entirely by district curriculum and are separate from religious activities. We are honored to support this civic initiative that brings early childhood education to students of every race, religion, background, and socioeconomic status.

Earlier this week, petitions were shared on social media calling on the school district to provide ranked school preference for student placement in the SOMSD Preschool Program. The call for residents to petition the district for this shift came along with vitriolic rhetoric about our synagogue communities. This approach contradicts the significant integration efforts made by the SOMA District and seeks to alter the social fabric of the towns we have chosen to call home. In a district that is working to overcome all that divides us, how can it be that ranking school choice be granted for only one purpose – to enable families to opt out of schools housed in Jewish spaces? How is this not a segregationist idea, designed to isolate neighbors based on religious, ethnic or even political differences?

Moreover, we are alarmed by the rhetoric of these posts, including the fact that they name each local synagogue, share quotes by several of us out of context, make accusations, and list synagogue programs in such a way as to paint us as hateful or inflicting harm on others. In so doing, they make many of their Jewish neighbors deeply uncomfortable and afraid.

A few months ago, a number of social media posts attempting to derail SOMSD District Preschool at synagogue sites focused on concerns about security. As the recent antisemitic attack in Washington, DC last week, the 2018 Pittsburgh synagogue shooting, and other attacks have made evident, the necessity of security at Jewish communal gatherings is crucial due to unfettered, ugly and hateful rhetoric directed at the Jewish community. We are acutely aware that such rhetoric can, and unfortunately has, escalated into actual violence. We do all we can to ensure the safety of all who enter our buildings. This includes staying attentive to the way people speak about Jews and the Jewish community.

As Project Shema, a national organization dedicated to building bridges of understanding in order to combat hate, noted, “[Last week’s] violence [in Washington, DC] didn’t occur in isolation. Over the past few years, we’ve witnessed a significant rise in language that demonizes and dehumanizes Jews, Jewish organizations, and Zionists, even justifying violence. Throughout history, when such language becomes normalized, our community faces a high risk. Standing up for Jewish safety demands that we actively resist this trend and prevent it from continuing.” These recent attacks on social media against our synagogues occur at a time when fears of violence have become a reality.

As the violent conflict between Israel and Hamas continues, we are witness from afar to suffering that is hard to comprehend. Many in the SOMA community have personal connections to family and friends directly experiencing the effects of war and violence. Our hearts are broken for the ongoing suffering of so many. 

Let us not turn our pain into hateful rhetoric that incites us against each other. It is a mistake for us to incorporate this dehumanizing manner of speech and writing into our social media posts, daily interactions, and local politics. As SOMA synagogue leaders, we continually work to make our houses of worship home-bases for Jews and people who love them. We may differ widely across religious and political spectrums, but we remain committed to looking each other in the face and treating one another with respect. We ask the same from our neighbors.

We must not accept hateful rhetoric aimed at our local Jewish institutions as the new “normal.” We urge our neighbors to engage in respectful conversations, and refrain from inciting violence, whether directly or indirectly, against their Jewish neighbors. We also encourage the entire SOMA community to stay focused on and committed to the values of diversity, equity and inclusion so core to the values of our towns, starting with our youngest students who need every seat in every classroom available to them.

It will always be easier to tear down and divide, than to build up and unite. We are committed, as we always have been, to working diligently with our local partners to build a safe, open, and inclusive community which celebrates and embraces its diversity. 

We implore all of our neighbors to join us in this sacred endeavor.

Co-Authored by the Clergy Teams of Congregation Beth El, Oheb Shalom Congregation, and Temple Sharey Tefilo-Israel:

Rabbi Daniel Cohen
Rabbi Alexandra Klein
Cantor Eliana Kissner
Rabbi Rachel Marder
Cantor Rebecca Moses
Rabbi Jesse Olitzky
Rabbi Abigail Treu

Note: this letter also appeared in TAPInto SOMA on May 30, 2025: https://www.tapinto.net/towns/soma/sections/community/articles/a-letter-from-the-clergy-of-congregation-beth-el-oheb-shalom-congregation-and-temple-sharey-tefilo-israel