Antisemitism is Jew-Hatred

I often wonder if the people filled with Jew-Hatred even know what antisemitism means. It’s difficult for me to understand how educated people can harbor hatred toward a religion or ethnicity. In truth, I struggle to understand any form of bigotry. Every individual is unique, and painting them in a swath of the same color seems both absurd and dangerous.

Merriam-Webster defines antisemitism as “hostility toward or discrimination against Jews as a religious, ethnic, or racial group.”

To me, the word antisemitism softens the reality. It rolls off the tongue, sounding so much nicer than Jew-Hatred.

Antisemitism is insidious, as it sneaks into the bowels of society. Jew-Hatred exposes the ugliness of what it truly is.

Rosh Hashanah, like Shabbat, reminds us to pause. Judaism wisely builds rest and reflection into our lives. While we spend our days racing to accomplish what seems impossible, Shabbat compels us to stop, breathe, and reconnect with those we love. Every week, it reminds us to keep our priorities clear and honor loved ones with our time.

I have to say, since our guru-like rabbi has moved on to another congregation, I was apprehensive as to what our Holy days would be like. I shouldn’t have worried. It was filled with spirit, love, and education — what more could anyone ask?

Rabbi-Cantor Marcia Tilchin came prepared with her beautiful voice and a 9/11 commemoration that brought tears to my eyes.

9/11 Memorial

It’s been 25 years since 9/11. Somehow it seems fitting for Rosh Hashanah to start on 9/11/2026; our people have suffered throughout our existence. Listening to Rabbi Marcia’s personal story of 9/11 and her recounting of some of the last calls from people that tragic day, thankfully, I had tissues in my purse. I visited the 9/11 memorial last year and wrote my Times of Israel Blog, 9/11/2025: A Living Symbol of Resilience, Rebirth, and Remembrance. Yet another memorial of lives lost.

Rabbi Marcia brought her friends along. Rav (means teacher, which he prefers, although he is a rabbi) Shai Cherry interjected his wisdom throughout the services and shared his “Prayer for Our Country and Our World,” which is so sorely needed. Musical friends included Jason Feddy on guitar and Ron Levy on piano. And lest I forget our friend Evan Wohl and my husband, Lonnie, on their djembes. As soon as the drums get going, the spirit of the congregation lifts, the smiles come out, we can’t help but move with the beat, and some just had to dance in the back of the sanctuary.

Jason Feddy is a very accomplished singer/songwriter, has written music for theatre, film, and TV, and has opened for Neil Young, Tears for Fears, and Joe Cocker. This year, Rabbi Marcia asked Jason to write a song for Israel. He conceded that given the topic, there might be room for controversy. He prefaced the song stating that, “my Zionist credentials are not in question,” and my ears perked up. He said he studied the traditional prayers for Israel and bemoaned that it would be impossible, as he might “offend half the crowd.” He came armed with the lyrics, but said he was writing the music as he went. He continued, “We all love Israel, we wish good things for Israel, we just are in a pickle right now.” The song he wrote is called “Amen, Sela,” which is also the chorus that he taught us to sing along with. Pause in Hebrew is סֶלַע (sela). I’m always amazed by the talent of some people, sure show up with the words and improvise the tune — creative audacity at its best. “Amen, Sela,” is a cry out for Peace and redemption during these times. Amen. Yes, I definitely was where I was supposed to be.

Another highlight was meeting our new interim rabbi, Rabbi Michael Weinstein. His sermon was one of the most timely and learned I have ever heard. It is sorely needed during these times, and his teachings shot straight to my heart.

Having moved to the area three months ago, he lives in a huge apartment complex, dwelling “with 800 of his closest new friends.” He bemoaned that the quintessential mezuzah was still missing from his front door. Why? Like so many of us Jews, he’s scared — an uncomfortable feeling for a rabbi on Rosh Hashana. What if one of those 800 turns out to be a Jew-hater? Was he in danger? He said he felt embarrassed, but it was true, like so many of us as Jews in 2026 in the U.S., and throughout the world today.

He acknowledged that what he was feeling felt strange if, for no other reason than that, nothing had happened since he’d been living there; he hadn’t experienced any prejudice — no incidents where he lived. He asked, “Where did this fear come from? Is it reasonable? … prudent?” Was it from our history as Jews? October 7^th? In the news? What’s happened to other Jews?” The most disturbing he realized was that Jew-Hatred had accomplished something without anyone threatening him. It felt like a dart went straight to my gut. How many of us are feeling this way? He continued, “Has Jew-Hatred caused this Jew to hide?” I could hear the terrorists celebrating. Are we doing their jobs for them?

He’s not alone, and he proceeded to state shocking statistics from a recent survey of Jews in the local area.

• 63% of Jews in our area acknowledged that they had not attended Jewish events the previous year because they were afraid.
• 45% stopped themselves from wearing something that would identify them as being Jewish.

He admitted that he was part of the latter and it was deeply unsettling. Torah itself teaches us to post its commandments on the doorposts of our house, “where my private Jewish life meets that awkward secular world.”

He reminded us of Hillel’s famous words, If I am not for myself, who will be for me?

Jew-Hatred is insidious. Rabbi Weinstein quoted Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “Antisemitism is a virus that survives because it mutates. The accusation changes, the political environment changes, the ideology changes, but somehow the Jew remains. At various moments in history, Jews have been hated because we were too religious, because we were Godless, because we were poor, because we were rich, because we were capitalist, because we were communists, because we refused to assimilate, because we assimilated too much. Because we were rootless, cosmopolitans with no national loyalty, and now because we insist upon on having a nation of our own.” In other words, the accusation changes, but the target remains the same.

Today, the hate is often spewed at Israel. Seeing the images of dead children nightly on our TVs is very disturbing and far too often one-sided. Many say that they are not antisemitic; they dislike the Israeli government. They don’t understand how interwoven Judaism is with Israel, even down to which direction we face at times while praying. Jews and Israel are inseparable.

Rabbi Weinstein continued, “One begins to realize something: this isn’t really about what Jews do; let’s be honest, we probably wouldn’t do it. There’s no correct answer. The target moves, the accusation changes, the Jew remains. Thank God. Sacks offered an important distinction: criticism of Israel is not inherently antisemitic. Israel is a country. Governments make decisions; governments can and should be criticized. Sacks argued that something changes when Jews are denied the same collective right granted to other peoples. The right to exist freely and equally as human beings, Jews.”

Think about it. What other country than Israel could be so heinously attacked and the world tells them they don’t have the right to defend themselves? I don’t believe that war is ever the answer. As I’ve said before, how can you think that killing someone’s child, no matter their age, could ever lead to a great ending? But does Israel have the right to defend itself? Hell, yes.

HAMAS cleverly built their tunnels beneath schools, mosques, and hospitals and housed their military leaders there as well. They’ve used their people as human shields. This is a war crime under the Geneva Conventions, the International Criminal Court (ICC), and the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC). Where is the outrage on the world stage from these same institutions?

And the United Nations? Why is Israel portrayed as the sole attacker? Borrowing a term from discussions of sexual assault, some might describe this as ‘victim-blaming,’ though the contexts are obviously very different.

I don’t believe in killing as a viable solution, and I believe that, regardless of one’s views on the morality of war, Israel’s leaders have hidden behind being right while ignoring how the world would react.

Now Israel is the pariah of the world. But labeling their defense as genocide? These are just a couple of examples of how Israel — you know, the country formed by and for Jews- is treated. Do you notice a pattern?

Rabbi Weinstein warned that

• 33% of the local Jewish adults reported being personally targeted by an antisemitic incident in the previous year.
• 22% reported antisemitic insults or harassment
• 20% encountered it on social media
• 15% reported social exclusion because they were Jewish.

Sarcastically, I thought, welcome to your new home. The results are upsetting. Many hadn’t gone somewhere or worn something, keeping the fact that they were Jewish secret. One friend of his, who had lived in the U.S. for 40 years but still had a heavy Israeli accent, got into an Uber, and when the driver asked where he was from, he said Greece.

How would you feel if you were Jewish, moved to a new place, and read these statistics? As a Jew living in the area for twenty-eight years, it was hard for me to comprehend, and I was grateful that I didn’t have an incident to add to the statistic.

However, since October 7th, I have had one occasion when I felt shocked and uncomfortable. I had attended an interfaith meeting where it was clear that only one narrative was welcomed. In fact, an imam who has been recorded telling his congregants to attack Jews is a member. Were Jews no longer encouraged to join?

At times like these, the fact that we are a minority is put right in our face. When I tell non-Jewish friends that entering services often feels like going through airport security, they are surprised. How would they feel if, a couple of times during their services, as happened this weekend, they were advised where the exits are in case of an emergency, or that if they see something, they should say something to security inside and outside the sanctuary door, or patrolling the hallways? It’s chilling.

They are incredulous. What? I had no idea. That’s part of the problem. Many good people are not aware of what life as a Jew today, not 1940, is like. Although we live it, even to me it seems like I must be having a nightmare.

Then Rabbi Weinstein began asking poignant questions that hit home. “When does reasonable vigilance become Jewish diminishment? When does protecting my Jewish life begin to require making my Jewish life smaller?”

There’s another danger he cautioned against: making Jew-Hatred central to Jewish identity. If we do, there is the risk that instead of Jews writing our own story, the Jew-hating hordes do.

He lamented, “Judaism is not Auschwitz. Judaism is not Pittsburgh. Judaism is not October 7^th.” They are a part of our story that, on the one hand, shouldn’t be ignored, but on the other, there’s so much more to our existence.

You could feel the love in how Rabbi Weinstein described Judaism. “Judaism is lighting Shabbat candles. Judaism is arguing over a page of Talmud — Jewish ideas. Judaism is a grandmother’s kugel recipe that nobody has ever written down, and everybody argues about. Judaism is dancing with the Torah. It is sitting shiva (mourning the dead). It is naming a baby. It is standing beneath a Chuppah (wedding canopy). Judaism is Hebrew, Israel, justice, prayer. It’s showing up in somebody’s hospital room. Judaism is laughing at the Passover table when everyone is famished, and we are counting twenty more pages in the Haggadah (Passover prayer book). It’s mitzvah (good deeds); it’s community. Judaism is life.”

Jew hatred is part of our story, but he says it’s not our purpose.  There are expectations we should be able to make as citizens and as Jews:

• We should expect our government to protect all its citizens — including Jews.
• We should expect universities to protect Jewish students.
• We should expect law enforcement to protect our synagogue.
• We should expect our neighbors to speak up when Jews are threatened.
• We should confront Jew-Hatred in politics, right or left.
• Our definition of antisemitism shouldn’t change because you’re a Democrat or Republican.

He acknowledged that there are many situations he can’t control, such as if someone hates Jews, posts vitriol online, students and professors slant the narrative on campus, or what Israel does, but he affirmed that he could control what he does.

He refuses to give people who hate Jews the power to define how he lives his Jewish life.

Rosh Hashana calls us to look honestly at ourselves. There is plenty to fear, but he said he fears something even more. “I fear to allow people who hate Jews to decide how Jewish I’m willing to be.

The greatest answer to Jew-Hatred cannot merely be Jewish survival; it must be Jewish living, learning, praying, arguing, celebrating, creating, loving, showing up, affixing my mezuzah onto his doorpost, Jewish thriving.”

He concluded with the fact that there are valid safety concerns for Jews, but he will decide — to openly be a Jew. Amen.

The important question — what will you do? Echoing in my ear was a lesson from my beloved mentor, Jean Houston, who would always hyphenate response-ability.

I was armed with my answer. I am starting a new series called “HOLOCAUST & BEYOND — STORIES OF JEWISH SURVIVAL.”

It’s a series where I interview children (they are adults now) of Holocaust survivors. Although in my PEACE with Penny video podcast I usually interview Peace organizations comprised primarily of Israelis and Palestinians who work on Peace together, this series I’m doing is for my Peace of Mind. We didn’t correctly defend ourselves last time, and look what happened — the Holocaust. I believe given today’s multiple forms of communication, especially on the internet, hate and antisemitism are spreading virally around the world, amplified by social media in ways previous generations never faced.

It seems the whole world has caught the Jew-Hatred train. Lies spread in seconds. Journalists repeatedly parrot numbers without verification. College campuses are filled with students and even professors spouting phrases like, “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” Do the students realize that they are shouting not only to stop the death and destruction in Gaza, but for the annihilation of the Jews? Let’s hope, for our sake, it’s ignorance and not the latest precursor to another pogrom.

The need to do this grew in my heart as I attended a few Holocaust events over the months. I went to a concert of violins that are Holocaust survivors called “Violins of Hope.” Not only are they survivors, but they also were heroes. Many saved the lives of the musicians who played them. The Nazis liked music to be played to calm the victims down as they were marched off to be killed or just for their own amusement. Today, the violins have been refurbished and played throughout the world. One episode features an interview with Avshalom (Avshi) Weinstein, who, with his father, is a luthier (violin maker) and lovingly brought these instruments back to life.

Another is with the son and daughter of the main character of The Messenger, Georgia Gabor. It’s the story of a math teacher who survived the Holocaust. On occasion, she would talk to her students about her experience. The students were allowed to go to the library if it wasn’t something they or their parents wanted them to hear. The play is about the outrage this caused over teaching about the Holocaust to the students in a school in San Marino, California.

To announce the debut of the series, we are starting with the series theme song NEVER AGAIN! I created two videos for NEVER AGAIN!, each with over 200 photos from the Holocaust and October 7^th. Some people may find a number of the photos in the Historical Version too graphic. Both the songwriter, Melissa R. Ritter, and I agreed we needed to offer an option that authentically shows what happened. October 7^th was not mere resistance; it was evil. The other is what we call the General Audience version with the same message, but easier to view.

We hope you will watch the videos. Although they are less than three minutes, they contain plenty of educational information to absorb.

For Jews, the ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are devoted to taking stock of one’s actions, repairing relationships, and seeking forgiveness from both God and other people. Given current trends, we thought this was a good time for people to add this to their contemplation.

What happened to our people, and what is happening today? Better still, what are we willing to do to stop the spread of Jew-Hatred? For a first step, please watch and share our theme song, NEVER AGAIN!

After Yom Kippur, when the new year really begins, we hope you’ll join us to listen and learn about the resilience of the Jewish people. Amen.

May You Live in PEACE, שלום and سلام