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Deeply Jewish comedy is having a moment, even as antisemitism rocks pop culture
(JTA) — Two weeks after a Trump-supporting heckler threw a beer can at Ariel Elias at a club in New Jersey over her politics, the Jewish comedian’s fortunes took a turn for the better. A video of the incident went viral and she made her network television debut on Jimmy Kimmel’s late-night talk show.
She spent most of her five-minute set talking about her Jewish identity and how it clashed with parts of her upbringing in Kentucky.
“I’m Jewish from Kentucky, which is insane, it’s an insane origin story,” she said last month before getting to jokes about how Southerners mispronounce her name and how badly her parents want her to date Jews.
Even though the crowd found it funny, Elias’ tight five wasn’t particularly groundbreaking. In the world of standup comedy, discussing one’s Jewish identity in a deep way has become increasingly common on the mainstream stage over the past several years. Jewish comedians are going beyond the bagel and anxiety jokes, discussing everything from religiosity and traditions (and breaking with those traditions) to how their Jewishness has left them prone to awkward situations and even antisemitism.
Ari Shaffir calls his most recent special, which was released earlier this month and titled “Jew” — and racked up close to four million views on YouTube in two weeks — “a love letter to the culture and religion that raised [him].” In his recent one man show “Just For Us” — which drew widespread acclaim and a slew of celebrity audience members, from Jerry Seinfeld to Stephen Colbert to Drew Barrymore — Alex Edelman discussed the details of growing up Modern Orthodox (and infiltrating a group of white nationalists). In 2019, Tiffany Haddish released a Netflix special called “Black Mitzvah,” in which she talks about learning about her Jewish heritage.
At the same time, the current uptick in public displays of antisemitism — punctuated by a series of celebrity antisemitism scandals and comedian Dave Chappelle’s controversial response to them — is complicating the moment for comedians who get into Jewish topics. Jewish comics are even debating what kinds of jokes about Jews are acceptable and which cross a line.
“I find it ironic that at a time where more Jewish comedians feel comfortable expressing their Judaism (i.e. wearing a yarmulke, making Jewish-oriented content) and not hiding it (by changing their name for example), we also see an up-swelling of outright antisemitism,” said Jacob Scheer, a New York-based comedian. “I don’t think — and hope — those two things are not related, but I find it really interesting and sad.”
The two phenomena could be related. Antisemitic incidents nationwide reached an all-time high in 2021, with a total of 2,717 incidents, according to an April 2022 audit from the Anti-Defamation League. Those incidents range from vandalism of buildings to harassment and assault against individuals.
“Now that [antisemitism is] a headline, it actually helps me to do what I need to do, which is just be extra out and loud and proud,” said Dinah Leffert, a comic based in Los Angeles. “I was hiding who I am just so I can survive in this environment. But this environment is not worth it if I have to hide.”
Scheer said that “people who are Jewish with an emphasis on the ‘Jew’ are having a moment.”
“[The] ‘Jew-ish’ world I wouldn’t say is dead, but I don’t think the ‘Jew-ish’ world is producing that much,” he said.
By “Jew-ish,” Scheer clarified that he means comics like Seinfeld and Larry David, who often infuse secular, culturally Jewish material into their comedy. Their apex of fame came during a time when Jewish comedy was not nearly as mainstreamed — the “Seinfeld” sitcom team was famously told that their idea was “too New York, too Jewish.”
Some of Seinfeld and David’s Jewish comedic successors, such as Judd Apatow and Seth Rogen, sprinkled in more explicitly Jewish jokes before 2010. But today, “you see more Alex Edelmans coming out,” Scheer said, referencing the increase in visibility for comedians with more observant upbringings.
Things have progressed to the level of “Jews doing comedy for other Jews about Jewish things,” Scheer added. In August, the first-ever Chosen Comedy Festival at the Coney Island Amphitheater in Brooklyn featured a lineup of mostly Jewish comics whose repertoires ranged from impressions of old Jewish women (who sound like bees) to breakdowns of the differences between how Sephardi and Ashkenazi Jews say “Shabbat shalom.” Leah Forster, who also performed at the festival, uses her Hasidic upbringing as source material for her standup routines, creating characters and using accents and impressions. (In her early days as a comedian, Forster performed for women-only audiences while she was a teacher at a Bais Yaakov Orthodox school in Brooklyn.)
The festival, which was hosted by Stand Up NY (an Upper West Side club that Scheer says is known for being “the Jewish one”) welcomed a packed audience of about 4,000 guests, many of whom were Orthodox. A second Chosen Comedy Festival will take place in downtown Miami in December.
(The New York Jewish Week, a 70 Faces Media brand, was the media partner for the Chosen Comedy Festival but had no say in its lineup.)
The festival’s co-hosts, Modi Rosenfeld and Elon Gold, who frequently collaborate, both grew their audiences in the early days of the pandemic: Rosenfeld with his camera-facing comedic characters, like the esoteric Yoely who delivers news updates with a Hasidic Yiddish twist; and Gold with his Instagram Live show “My Funny Quarantine,” which featured guest appearances from other comedians. Both Gold and Rosenfeld work antisemitism into their material.
Some are finding the moment difficult to navigate. In late October, at the standup show she runs in Los Angeles, the comic two slots ahead of Dinah Leffert asked the room, “Is anyone still even supporting Kanye at this point?” The crowd responded with resounding whoops, claps and cheers, leading Leffert to feel like they did support Kanye West, the rapper who spent much of last month in the news for his multiple antisemitic rants.
Just a few jokes into her own 10-minute set, Leffert walked offstage.
“My body wouldn’t let me keep being inauthentic about what I was really feeling,” she said. “I don’t want to give laughter to people who are anti-Jewish.”
Leffert, who is openly Zionist, said she also observes a level of anti-Zionism in comedy clubs these days that feels to her like antisemitism.
“They’re not criticizing Israel,” she said. “It slips into antisemitism very quickly. And it’s just a really hostile environment.”
During the last large-scale military flare-up of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in May 2021, she felt inundated with Palestinian flag comments on posts about Jewish holidays, not Israel.
“You just get Palestinian flags underneath your Hanukkah posts,” she said.
In October, at a club in Omaha, comedian Sam Morril told a joke about how he hopes Jeffrey Epstein won’t be honored during Jewish Awareness Month.
“Can I ask why you chose to yell out ‘free Palestine’ after a Jeffrey Epstein joke?” he responded. When the heckler said she was making a “public statement” and was looking for “justice,” Morril answered: “A public statement? At the Omaha Funny Bone?”
Eitan Levine, a New York-based comedian known for his TikTok show “Jewish or Antisemitic” — on which he asks people to vote on whether objects like ketchup and mayonnaise, for example, are Jewish or antisemitic (in a loose comic version of the word) — said he receives similar comments online.
“This is a TikTok video about bagels,” Levine said. “What do you mean, you want me to take a stance?”
Though the response to his show has been largely positive and he has gone viral several times, Levine still receives all kinds of white supremacist comments on his videos — with backwards swastika, money bag or mustachioed man emojis evocative of Hitler, along with comments that say “jas the gews” as a spoonerism for “gas the Jews,” as a way to avoid TikTok censorship. Levine said he manually deletes these kinds of comments, but sometimes that’s not enough; one of the guests on his show had to cancel an in-person show due to online threats made against her.
“This stuff is clearly happening and it is dangerous and it is scary,” Levine told JTA.
Writer and comedian Jon Savitt, whose writing has been featured on College Humor and Funny or Die, and says he has often been “the first Jew that people have ever met,” recently launched an experimental web page called Meet A Jew, where users can connect with a Jewish person, much like a pen pal. His 2016-2018 standup show “Carrot Cake & Other Things That Don’t Make Sense” largely dealt with antisemitism — and its audience, he was surprised to see, was largely non-Jewish.
“Not only did I have people come up to me after the show, but I had non-Jews come up to me months later when they saw me and say ‘tikkun olam‘ [Hebrew for the Jewish principle of repairing the world] to me, or recite Hebrew,” Savitt said. “And to me that was the coolest use case because not only were they there, but they kind of retained something.”
Savitt says he isn’t trying to change any extremists’ minds with Meet A Jew, but he sees it as one step that could engage people who may be ignorant or unaware and give them a place to ask questions.
“Although it shouldn’t be on us to educate everyone or to have to constantly be standing up for ourselves, I think there are ways that we can bring other people into the conversation as well,” he said.
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The post Deeply Jewish comedy is having a moment, even as antisemitism rocks pop culture appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Why there are new laws shaping how schools teach about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict
Teachers, parents and schools have long debated what students should learn about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. But lesson plans have typically been discussed in PTA gatherings, faculty meetings, and curriculum committees — not determined by legislation.
That’s changing, as new laws around the country seek to regulate how narratives about the conflict are taught. The measures are testing the boundaries of classroom free speech, teeing up legal battles between teachers who want to express pro-Palestinian viewpoints in the classroom and those who see such lessons as unprofessional or antisemitic.
The latest flashpoint is in California, where a new “antisemitism prevention” bill was signed into law this month, partly in response to controversy created by the state’s ethnic studies curriculum, which Gov. Gavin Newsom made a graduation requirement in 2021.
A tale of two curriculums
“Is Israel a settler colonial state?” and “If so, what does that mean for us in regard to who to support?”
Those were questions a San Jose, Calif., teacher posed to students in January 2025, along with a YouTube video titled “Zionism is not the same as Judaism,” featuring a spokesperson from the anti-Zionist group Neturei Karta.
In April, the California Department of Education found that the lesson “discriminated against Jewish students” and required the school district to provide teacher training on presenting controversial topics in a balanced, non-discriminatory way.
Such disputes have become prevalent in California in the four years since the adoption of the state’s ethnic studies curriculum.
Many Jewish groups support a curriculum that includes lessons on antisemitism and Jewish identity, alongside units on Black, Latino, Native American, and Asian American and Pacific Islander communities.
But an alternative curriculum, created by the “Liberated Ethnic Studies Model Curriculum Consortium,” has drawn sharp criticism for portraying Israel as a colonial state and omitting discussion of antisemitism while covering other forms of bigotry. For instance, it defines the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement as a “global social movement that currently aims to establish freedom for Palestinians living under apartheid conditions.”
“If I look at the materials that they’re putting forward, it doesn’t provide any balance,” said Larry Shoham, a Jewish English and business teacher at Hamilton High School in Los Angeles. “And I’m just afraid that when students are exposed to this curriculum, we’re planting seeds of prejudice and hatred in the next generation.”
Several Jewish groups have sought to keep the “liberated” curriculum out of public schools. But achieving that goal through legal avenues has yielded mixed results.
A coalition of Jewish groups had success in Santa Ana, Calif., where in February the school district settled a lawsuit that alleged ethnic studies courses were biased against Jews. As part of the discovery process, the plaintiffs uncovered several antisemitic messages from the school board, including a text message from a committee member suggesting that “we may need to use Passover to get all new courses approved,” since Jews would not be present. As part of the settlement, the district agreed to terminate their “liberated” ethnic studies classes and redesign the courses with public input.
But in Los Angeles, a federal judge issued a rebuke of parents who sought to use the law to change curriculum. A group under the name “Concerned Jewish Parents and Teachers of Los Angeles” sued the Liberated Ethnic Studies Model Curriculum Consortium, arguing that they had a religious belief in Zionism, and the “liberated” ethnic studies curriculum made it unsafe to express Zionist beliefs.
The parents, the judge wrote in his decision, had the right to petition for curricular changes. But the curriculum, even if offensive to some, was not discriminatory or illegal.
“It is far from clear that learning about Israel and Palestine or encountering teaching materials with which one disagrees constitutes an injury,” Judge Fernando Olguin wrote.
Bills aimed at restricting the “liberated” ethnic studies curriculum have also stalled. Last spring, the Jewish Public Affairs Committee of California championed a bill that would have required school districts to submit ethnic studies curricula to the California Department of Education for review, ensuring “content is historically accurate, free from antisemitic bias, and aligned with educational best practices,” JPAC wrote on its website.
But facing opposition from some civil liberties groups, the bill never made it into committee. JPAC shifted its focus to a broader measure creating a new statewide office to combat antisemitism in public schools, JPAC executive director David Bocarsly said in an interview.
That bill, with the requirement that curricula be “factually accurate” and “consistent with accepted standards of professional responsibility, rather than advocacy, personal opinion, bias, or partisanship,” just passed.
The new law’s impact
The law establishes a state Office of Civil Rights and an antisemitism prevention coordinator, who will track complaints, issue guidance, and coordinate training about antisemitism.
As for curriculum, supporters say the law simply reinforces longstanding norms for teachers: that lessons should be grounded in fact and free of political bias — requirements which don’t bar thoughtful discussions about Israelis and Palestinians.
“There’s nothing in this bill or existing law that prevents teachers from bringing up international conflicts or controversial issues, and to be able to provide opportunities for students to engage with it with critical thought,” Bocarsly said.
Critics, however, see the law’s vague language as a deliberate attempt to stifle speech and make educators think twice before broaching the subject at all.
“Are you allowed to talk about the occupation of the West Bank?” said Jenin Younes, national legal director at the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee. “Are you allowed to talk about the Nakba from the Palestinians perspective in 1948? That’s not clear.”
Younes said she’s also troubled by a provision that allows anyone — not just students or parents — to file a complaint about antisemitism. That, she said, “opens up the door to people from outside who want to harass teachers.”
Some educators share those concerns. Mara Harvey, a Jewish social studies teacher at Discovery High School in Sacramento, wrote an op-ed calling California’s law “the wrong response to a real problem” and part of a broader push to bring “right-wing, Trump-style censorship to California schools.”
“Consider what it could mean in a real classroom: A student brings in an article from Haaretz (one of Israel’s most respected newspapers) criticizing government policies. Could a discussion on this be deemed antisemitic?” Harvey wrote. “Yes, it could.”
Combatting antisemitism or ‘attacking teachers’?
Similar debates about curriculum have played out in schools across the country. In Plano, Texas, a high school classroom used a Jeopardy-style game with the prompt, “Group who wants to gain back the country they lost to Israel.” The correct answer: “Who are the Palestinians?”
In August, Texas Attorney general Ken Paxton launched an investigation into Plano Independent School District, writing in a letter that “accounts have circulated that teachers are presenting biased materials and insisting that students take a pro-Palestinian view.”
“Any teacher or administrator that has facilitated or supported radical anti-Israel rhetoric in our schools should be fired immediately,” Paxton wrote on X.
In a statement, the school district said the claims of antisemitism were false and amounted to “political theater.”
Other states are also grappling with how best to address alleged bias in schools.
In Kansas, a law passed in May prohibits “incorporating or allowing funding of antisemitic curriculum.”
Arizona considered an even tougher approach. Democratic Gov. Katie Hobbs vetoed a bill that would have let parents sue educators for teaching antisemitism — meaning teachers would have been personally liable for lawyer fees and financial damages.
“Unfortunately, this bill is not about antisemitism; it’s about attacking our teachers,” Hobbs wrote in a letter explaining her veto.
In other cases, the curriculum has simply been removed. In Massachusetts, the state teachers association’s “curriculum resources” for lessons on “Israel and Occupied Palestine” included an image of a Star of David made of dollar bills. The curriculum resources were taken down after intense backlash.
Incidents like that are what Rebecca Schgallis, senior education strategist at the CAMERA Education Institute — which describes itself as “fighting antisemitism and anti-Israel bias in education” — cites in arguing for closer review of classroom materials nationwide.
She pointed to resources such as “Teaching While Muslim,” a group of New Jersey Muslim educators who say they are “working to actively include social justice, anti-racist & anti-Islamophobic curricula and educators in our schools.” Content on the group’s website includes a worksheet instructing students to color the Palestinian flag over the entire map of Israel — though it’s unclear whether such a lesson has ever actually been taught in public school classrooms.
Because curriculum decisions are made locally, Schgallis said, it’s difficult to track how widespread such lessons are. Often, she added, the problem comes not from official materials but from individual teachers going “rogue.”
“I think teachers have an obligation to teach curriculum and not to insert their personal viewpoints,” Schgallis said. “Everyone has the right to free speech outside of the classroom, but when teachers are teaching, they have a job to do.”
The post Why there are new laws shaping how schools teach about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict appeared first on The Forward.
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Kamala Harris on whether Israel committed genocide: ‘We should all step back and ask this question’
(JTA) — Former Vice President Kamala Harris held back from labeling Israel’s actions in Gaza a “genocide” on Sunday but said it was an appropriate question.
“A lot of folks in your party have called what’s happening in Gaza a genocide. Do you agree with that?” correspondent Eugene Daniels asked Harris during an interview on MSNBC’s “The Weekend.”
“Listen, it is a term of law that a court will decide,” Harris responded. “But I will tell you that when you look at the number of children that have been killed, the number of innocent civilians that have been killed, the refusal to give aid and support, we should all step back and ask this question and be honest about it, yeah.”
Several lawmakers, including Vermont’s Jewish Sen. Bernie Sanders, an independent, and far-right Georgia Republican Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, have described Israel’s conduct in Gaza over the past two years in Gaza as a genocide, but the allegation has not gotten mainstream support in Congress.
Throughout Harris’ book tour for her new memoir, “107 Days,” the former vice president has drawn pro-Palestinian protests who have accused her of being a “war criminal” and of supporting “genocide” in Gaza during her term. She has at times rebuffed the protesters and also given airtime to their concerns.
“I was the first person at the highest level of our United States government or administration to talk about the fact that the people in Gaza were starving,” Harris told protesters at a book event last month, according to the Washington Post.
Later in the interview, Daniels asked Harris whether she agreed that President Donald Trump should be “commended” for his role in brokering the ceasefire deal between Hamas and Israel that saw the release of the 20 living hostages on Monday.
“I don’t think we should hold any credit where it’s due,” said Harris. “I really do hope it becomes real and that the hostages are out, that Gaza is no longer being treated with such brutality of force, that aid goes in. I commend the people who have been a part of this process. I commend the Qataris, the Egyptians, and the president.”
The post Kamala Harris on whether Israel committed genocide: ‘We should all step back and ask this question’ appeared first on The Forward.
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Jews let go of hostage rituals with gratitude and grief
(JTA) — Like most synagogues, Congregation Beth El in South Orange, New Jersey added new rituals after the Oct. 7, 2023 attacks that killed 1,200 in Israel, saw another 251 taken hostage and launched a grinding war between Israel and Hamas.
The Conservative congregation hung a “bring them home now” sign out front on behalf of the hostages. Rabbi Jesse Olitzky added the “Acheinu” prayer for redeeming captives to the weekly Shabbat service, and each week read the biography of a hostage. As the war raged on, the congregation sang songs of peace.
There and elsewhere, congregants wore yellow hostage ribbons and pins on their lapels, and dog tags with the names of the missing. Some families lit extra candles on Shabbat. Rachel Goldberg-Polin, whose son Hersh would eventually be listed among the dead in Gaza, popularized the wearing of a piece of masking tape on which she wrote the number of days since the hostages were taken.
This week, as the last 20 living hostages were returned to Israel as part of a cease-fire deal between Israel and Hamas, many Jews are relieved to be ending these rituals — even as they question whether it is right to do so and wonder how to channel their prayers and practices toward whatever comes next. Twenty-four deceased hostages are believed to be in Gaza, and even as soldiers return home and Gazans reclaim what’s left of their former lives, an enduring peace seems far away.
At Beth El, the Acheinu and lawn sign will stay in place until the bodies are returned. In the meantime, Tuesday night’s celebration of Simchat Torah will be a chance to experience a sense of relief members haven’t felt in two years.
“Like so many we haven’t been able as a people to move forward and get to Oct. 8 until the hostages came home,” Olitzky said Monday, hours after Hamas released the living hostages. “And now there is a sense of being able to exhale and breathe and, God willing, to move forward, to rebuild, and for all Israeli citizens and for Palestinians to have opportunities to build peace.”
This week, rabbis and Jews in the pews are asking if it is time to move forward.
Rabbi Yael Ridberg, the recently retired spiritual leader of Congregation Dor Hadash in San Diego, said she would remove the ribbon and dog tag she wears when the bodies of the deceased hostages are returned.
“I look forward to tucking them away, but not disposing of them,” she wrote in response to a journalist’s query. “I will stop wearing them when all the deceased hostages are returned. These are keepsakes of a time worth remembering, as hard as it has been for the last two years.”
Ronit Wolff Hanan, the former music director at Congregation Beth Sholom in Teaneck, New Jersey, said she is not sure what to do with the ribbon pin and dog tags she’s worn for most of the past two years. She’s torn between “this unbelievable release and relief and joy,” and sadness that there are still 24 bodies yet to be returned.
“My whole thing is, well, what do we do know?” said Wolff Hanan, a dual U.S.-Israeli citizen whose son served over 300 days in the Israeli reserves during the war. “I keep thinking about the long, difficult road all of these hostages and families have ahead of them, and it’s just unimaginable. But also I’m thinking about, when it is really over? We don’t know if this is the dawn of a new era or if we are going to go back to the same old, same old.”
Her partner, Rabbi Eli Havivi, offered his own solution to a similar dilemma: In synagogue on Monday morning, he wore his hostage dog tags, but covered with blue painter’s tape, in order to suggest that “it’s over, but it is not over.”
On a Facebook page for Jewish women, a number of members spoke of their reluctance to stop lighting extra candles. Some felt that if they did, it would break a kind of spiritual commitment, or might suggest that they’ve given up on the freed hostages who will continue to have mental and physical challenges. Some referred to a passage from Talmud (Shabbat 21b) that extends the metaphor of the Hanukkah candles to suggest that someone should always add light, not subtract.
By contrast, the comic Periel Aschenbrand wrote that she was eager to take off the button that she’d been wearing in solidarity with Omri Miran, a hostage abducted in front of his wife and two children on Oct. 7. “I can’t wait to be able to take it off tomorrow, and for Omri to be reunited with his daughters and family,” she wrote Sunday on Instagram.
Alyssa Goldwater, an Orthodox influencer, wrote that she too is “really looking forward” to taking off the yellow ribbon pin she’s worn over the past two years, but that removing doesn’t mean forgetting.
“When you remove a pin, the tiny holes never fully go away,” she wrote on Instagram. “They will remain and serve as a reminder that we will never forget what has happened to us over the last two years. We will never forget who stood by us and who stood soundly or against us. The holes will be tiny because we pray that the hostages will be able to eventually heal and live their regular lives again, where the unimaginable travesties they’ve been through won’t even be noticeable in the human eye, but the holes will remain, because this is a part of us now.”
Long before Oct. 7 led to a torrent of new practices, Jews altered their prayers and rituals in tune with current events, with some changes handed down from rabbis and others bubbling up from the “folk.”
Some changes stick — like the Av HaRachamim memorial prayer, composed in the Middle Ages for those who perished in the Crusades — and others fall away. In the 1970s and ’80s boys and girls celebrating their b’nai mitzvah “twinned” with Soviet Jews unable to emigrate. Adults wore silver bracelets with the name of these refuseniks, and put them away when the emigration restrictions fell.
The additions and changes that persist usually speak to other events, the way Av HaRachamim has become a weekly reminder of various Jewish tragedies. In general, however, a prayer or ritual that responds to current events “should have a theoretical timestamp for when it exits stage left, even if we cannot always know when that time will come,” Rabbi Ethan Tucker, president and rosh yeshiva of Hadar, explained in a Facebook post discussing the transition away from Oct. 7 practices. “Without that foresight and planning, the addition either straggles on, eventually becoming a kind of exhibit in the gallery of prayer, or it simply fades away when monotony and detachment have gotten the better of it.”
How did you, your synagogue ior Jewish institution mark the release of the hostages? Drop us a line at newsdesk@jta.org.
The Jewish calendar itself seemed to conspire in the spiritual turbulence of many Jews: The hostage release came on the eve of Israelis’ celebration of Simchat Torah — and the second anniversary, on the Hebrew calendar, of the Hamas attacks.
The holiday is meant to be a day of unbridled joy. A centerpiece of Simchat Torah is the hakafah, when congregants dance with and around the Torah scrolls
Last year, congregations struggled with how to match the happy themes of the holiday with the one-year anniversary of the worst attack in Israel’s history. Olitzky said his congregation began last year’s Simchat Torah festivities with a “solemn” hakafah, where congregants sang Israel’s national anthem and a somber Hebrew song while standing still. Olitzky said he took solace at the time in the words of Goldberg-Polin, who said, “’There is a time to sob and a time to dance’ and we have to do both right now.”
And while the release of the hostages is also tinged with sadness — for the lost years, the captives who didn’t make it, the suffering still to come — many will use the holiday as a celebration of deliverance and gratitude.
The release of the hostages, Olitzky said, will “allow Simchat Torah to be that — the holiday when we are supposed to have so much joy. Last year it was difficult to find that joy on Simchat Torah. I truly believe that we will have a greater opportunity in the days ahead to sing and dance.”
Adat Shalom, a Reconstructionist synagogue in Bethesda, Maryland, will use Simchat Torah to celebrate the hostages’ return by ending another common practice since Oct. 7: a chair left empty on the synagogue’s bima, featuring the image of a missing hostage.
During the dancing on Simchat Torah, marked on Tuesday night outside of Israel, the congregation will bring the chair and use it to lift up members wedding-style. “We have a lot of people in the community who are really close with the Hostages and Missing Families Forum in Washington,” said Rabbi Scott Perlo. “We’re going to take that very chair, and take it from its depths and lift it up, and make it the centerpiece of our joy.”
Adat Shalom rotated in a number of special prayers and readings over the past two years, acknowledging, Perlo said ruefully, that “there’s so much to pray for,” including “the hostages, the safety of our family in Israel, the safety of people in Gaza,” and the state of American democracy.
He understands that some congregants may be wary of letting go of the new rites and prayers — perhaps afraid that if they don’t keep up the tradition, the horrors that prompted their prayers will only return.
“So what I would say to them is some version of, ‘Yes, don’t let it go completely, but let it transform into something new,’” said Perlo.
Rabbi Felipe Goodman of Temple Beth Sholom in Las Vegas, Nevada also plans to incorporate a ritual of release and transformation during Simchat Torah celebrations on Tuesday night. He’s asking congregants to bring their yellow pins and dog tags and place them on an heirloom Torah cover. “This cover will be dedicated as a memorial and displayed at the entrance of our Temple, so that every time we walk through through Our Temple’s doors, we will remember what happened on Oct. 7, 2023,” he wrote in a message to members.
On Sunday, Hanna Yerushalmi, a rabbi based in Annapolis, Maryland, shared a poem on Instagram, called “Yellow Chairs” that imagined a near future in which hope will transform the fraught symbols of Oct. 7 grief and remembrance. It reads in part:
Empty chairs will be
saved for friends arriving late,
and tape will be
tape again,
and hostage necklaces
will be put away, forgotten in drawers.
and Saturday night will be date night once again.
The post Jews let go of hostage rituals with gratitude and grief appeared first on The Forward.