28 October 2019: Alicia Chandler gives a sermon on responding to the Tree of Life Synagogue massacre

Sermon given at Temple Beth El, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, 27 October 2019:

Good morning and Shabbat Shalom. My name is Alicia Chandler. In addition to being a member of this blessed community, I am also honored to serve as the President of the Jewish Community Relations Council/AJC. 

One year ago, the peace of Shabbat was shattered when a gunman walked into Pittsburgh’s Tree of Life Synagogue, screamed “All Jews Must Die,” and opened fire on worshipers. 
Eleven died that morning. It was the deadliest attack on Jews in the history of our country. 
Those eleven members of our community were targeted for being Jews, for worshipping as Jews. They were murdered as representatives of Jewish ideals—the injunction to welcome the stranger and to love one’s neighbor.
These teachings are foundational to us as both Jews and Americans. No threat of terror or act of barbarity will ever deter us from upholding them.
But what happened in Pittsburgh was a horrible wake-up call, a deadly reminder that antisemitism persists in our time and in our country. Over the past years, we have, of course, seen a rise of antisemitic rhetoric and violence across Europe. But many of us had thought that America was different, that such horrendous acts of violence could not take place here. We realize now—it can happen here. It is happening here.
How we wish that Pittsburgh had been the end of it. But it wasn’t. A shooting at Chabad of Poway. The taunting of a high school student in Bloomfield Hills. Antisemitic flyers distributed at local universities. A swastika on a sand dune in Muskegon. The vandalism of synagogues in Battle Creek, Grand Rapids, and the Upper Peninsula. The destruction of Sukkahs in Berkeley and East Landing. Nazis marching at the Motor City Pride Festival. Antisemitic flyers at Clover Hill Cemetery. 
We see the upsurge in antisemitism not only at home but also around the globe. Over the past years, Jews in France, Belgium, Bulgaria, and Denmark have been harassed, attacked, and murdered for the simple fact of being visible as Jews.  
And earlier this month, on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, a young man motivated by far-right and antisemitic beliefs, attacked a synagogue in the German city of Halle, killing two.
And on and on and on it goes. 
So - in the face of all of this - what do we do?
The first thing we can do is thank those who keep us safe. Morris, Donzelle, Ken, Joe - thank you for being part of this family. We appreciate what you do for us. We also appreciate the work of the security team from the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Detroit. We appreciate our local and federal law enforcement officials who understand the serious threat posed by hate crimes. 
Second, we show up, just as you have done today. The hashtag #ShowUpForShabbat was created one year ago because the American Jewish Committee - AJC - could think of no better way to honor the lives of eleven synagogue attendees than to participate in the very ritual that they had been attending - Shabbat services. Here at Beth El, we gathered in this chapel and listened to the beautiful voices of Elana Jagoda and Saul Kaye. We sang, and we prayed. It may not have been easy to walk into synagogue with fears of copycat attacks looming, but we showed up. Three days later, we were joined in the sanctuary by our sisters and brothers of all faiths or of no faith who joined us to mourn together for the lives lost.
Third, you can speak up. AJC just published a survey on American Jewish attitudes about antisemitism. Some of the results are predictable. 88% of those surveyed view antisemitism as a problem in the United States today. 84% believe that antisemitism in the United States has increased in the last five years. Two percent of those surveyed had personally been the target of an antisemitic physical attack in the previous five years. Twenty-three percent of those surveyed had been the target of an antisemitic remark in person, by mail, or by the phone, and 21% have been the target of an antisemitic remark online or through social media during that same period. 
But here is the part that breaks my heart - the vast majority of those that faced antisemitism did not report it. They did not report it to the police. They did not report it to a Jewish organization. They did not report it through social media. They stayed silent. If you remember nothing else I say today, remember that we must speak out. The Jewish community has so many resources that we can use to support those who have been targets of antisemitism. But we cannot help you if we do not know. 
I understand the impulse. If God forbid, I came home to a swastika painted on my garage the first thing I would want to do is get out a can of spray paint to cover it up. But that is the wrong response. The right response is to call law enforcement. The right response is to call the JCRC/AJC. The right response is to call the ADL. Let our community support you.
Moreover, it is not enough to speak up when the hate is directed at us. When you see hate directed at our friends and neighbors - at the black community, at the Latino community, at the Muslim community, at the LGBTQ community - you must speak up. First, speak up because it is the right thing to do. But if that doesn’t entice you, speak up because history has taught us that when hate is allowed to fester, it will eventually turn towards the Jews. 
Fourth, exercise holy chutzpah. 
When I was 17, I traveled to Poland and Israel as part of the March of the Living. While walking the streets of Warsaw one afternoon, a man with a shaved head starting screaming at us. I may not have understood the words he was saying, but I could see the hatred in his eyes. In front of me walked the Grand Aleph Godol - the national president of B’nai B’rith Youth Organization. He stopped right in front of this man, bent down and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a kippah, placed it on his head, and resumed walking.
What strength! What holy chutzpah! This 19-year-old, this teenager, stood in the face of hate and silently reaffirmed his faith. 
I pray that we could all find such strength when confronted with hate. I know I have failed in that regard. Earlier in life, I often failed. An antisemitic remark would send me running out of the room, tearing up. But soon, I learned that antisemitic comments were often less about hatred than they were about ignorance. A question about whether I believed that Jews were going to hell could be antisemitic. Still, it could be an excellent opportunity to educate someone who had never met a Jew about our faith. The phrase “Jew them down” could be intentioned as a slur, but it could be someone who was raised in a place where such vernacular was common. A simple response of, “Do you know I am Jewish?” can open lines of communication and change people’s hearts and minds. When there is danger of physical violence, as we seemed to be under in Poland, perhaps it is not the best time to exercise holy chutzpah. But life presents opportunities to teach people - and these opportunities can be life-changing.
Fifth, keep reaching out.
As a Jewish community, when we feel under attack we can insulate ourselves and isolate ourselves. Remember that before our ghettos were locked from the outside to keep us in, we locked them from the inside to prevent the harmful forces of the world from getting to us. 
In these moments of fear, it is natural to want to return to our ghetto, to build our walls and lock the gates. But this would be myopic. My organization - the Jewish Community Relations Council/AJC - believes that these times call for us to double down on outreach. We are a defense organization meaning that we exist to help defend and protect the Jewish people. But we protect the Jewish people by reaching out to our neighbors and establishing mutually beneficial relationships that look towards the future. We build connections that strengthen both our Jewish community as well as our broader Detroit community. We will not back down on these partnerships. And Temple Beth El, which has always been a leader in interfaith engagement and community relations, will not back down either. 
Last, allow our faith to meet the moment. 
A few years ago, before the first Shabbat in Charlevoix, I was at a party in Boulder Park in Charlevoix. One of the neighbors, an older woman who knew I was a member at Beth El, came to me with her concerns. She had been coming up to Charlevoix for most of her life. She loves it there. But she was uncomfortable that there was going to be a visible show of Judaism in the amphitheater. “They know that we are Jewish, but we don’t want to flaunt it.” 
With respect to this woman, she could not be more wrong. This is not a moment to be small. This is not a moment to appear powerless. This is not a moment to think if we just don’t bother anyone, the hate will be directed elsewhere. 
I am part of a faith that our teaching says has existed for five thousand, seven hundred, and eighty years. My family has survived the Spanish expulsion and the Holocaust. I stand here as a proud, third, and fourth-generation American. Our community has carved out a place in this country and this community. The deed on my home in Birmingham from the 1930s might say “NO BLACKS AND NO JEWS,” but my name is on that title. I am a proud member of Temple Beth El, the first synagogue founded in the State of Michigan. 
After a horrible antisemitic incident last week in Framingham, Massachusetts, a meme started to circulate online. It was a Jewish star, with the words "We are here. We are not going anywhere." In the face of hate, we must keep this resolve. 
I worry that this d'var may give the impression that I live in fear or am pessimistic about the future. I am not. The issue of white supremacy is real, and we must confront it, but I am thrilled to be Jewish here in America in 2019. I am excited each Sunday as I walk my children into Masa before I head off to minyan in the library. I am ecstatic to sit in the sanctuary over the holidays and listen to cantor's beautiful voice - even if she has a cold. And Rabbi Miller - I promise when you schedule the bowling event that you referenced in your Yom Kippur sermon  - the Chandlers will be there.
Our Torah portion this week is Bereshit. In the beginning. In it, in six days now depicted beautifully on the wall of this chapel, we move from tohu vavohu –a dark, chaotic nothingness - to the world. But our tradition teaches us that the world was not really completed in six days. The work of creation is ongoing. There will be tragedy - as there was tragedy one year ago. But by showing up and honoring our community, today and in the future, you are each helping complete the work of creation.

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