Jewish Infighting Is a Gift to Antisemitism

I admit it.  I’m a bit triggered by the comment section of my previous post. Being called a “fake Jew” on this platform for the hundredth time in 10 years. So, let me share my thoughts on this type of thing…

In a world where antisemitism is no longer hiding in the shadows but marching boldly through campuses, city halls, and the internet, we Jewish people face a grave threat and not just from outside forces. Among the more insidious dangers to our collective future is the internal fraying of our communal fabric, fueled by disdain, mockery, and condescension that some Orthodox and traditional Jews level at their Reform siblings. Let’s be clear… this isn’t merely unhelpful. It’s harmful, self-defeating, and deeply irresponsible.

The Jewish people are an ancient, diverse, ever-evolving family. We are not a monolith, and we never have been. From the deserts of Sinai to the streets of Warsaw to the synagogues of Los Angeles, we have always prayed in different ways, thought in different languages, and wrestled with God and tradition on our own terms. And yet, through pogroms, exile, genocide, and modern statehood, we have survived. Not by demanding uniformity, but by holding on to unity. Our fragile but sacred unity.

So when a more “observant” Jew mocks Reform Jews as “fake Jews,” or sneers at their practices as watered-down, or deems their rabbis illegitimate, they are not protecting the sanctity of Judaism. They are attacking the very notion of Jewish peoplehood. They are doing the work of antisemites for them — fragmenting our strength, undermining our numbers, and alienating those who already feel uncertain about whether there’s a place for them in the tribe.

No matter how you slice it, Reform Jews represent the largest denomination of American Jewry. We show up for Israel, even when it’s complicated. We fight for social justice. We join Jewish federations, fund synagogues, educate our kids, and say Kaddish for our loved ones. If you write off our Judaism, you are writing off millions of Jews who proudly carry the torch — not in your way, perhaps, but in a way that keeps the fire alive.

Now lets talk about the times we live in. Antisemitism is rearing its ancient, toxic head once again, this time cloaked in new language, but fueled by the same hate. Jews are being blamed for wars we didn’t start, targeted in schools and workplaces, and told that our grief doesn’t count unless we pass a political (and typically right wing) litmus test. The pressure is enormous. We need every Jew — left, right, secular, religious, woke, old-school — to stand together and say “we will not be divided. We will not be silenced. We are one people.”

What’s more, many Reform Jews are intermarried families, raising our kids on the margins of Jewish identity. When you mock our choices or shame our traditions, you push families away from Judaism — not toward deeper observance, but toward total disconnection. That’s not bringing Jews closer… That’s gatekeeping. That’s tribal suicide.

This isn’t a call for theological agreement. It’s a demand for communal decency. You don’t have to approve of every Reform innovation or sermon. But you do have to stop treating other Jews as though they are a threat to Jewish continuity simply because they interpret halacha differently or choose a different path to God. If we have any hope of surviving and thriving as a people, we must widen the tent not close the flaps and lock the door.

Every antisemite sees you as a Jew. Not a frum Jew, not a Reform Jew… just a Jew. They don’t care if you keep kosher or march in a Pride parade or drive to shul. They hate us all the same. So why, in God’s name, would we hate each other?

We need each other and if we fail to act like it — if we let internal contempt rot our core — we may one day find ourselves alone, wondering why there are so few of us left.