Toward the End of a Career

Posted on by Lauren Dube

Toward the End of a Career

By Neil Sandler
Rabbi Emeritus

Dear AA Friends,

Nearly half of my pulpit career has been spent in our congregation. I never imagined such a possibility, but serving you for many years was my good fortune.

More than five years ago, you will recall that I spoke to you on Rosh Hashana about my stepping down as Senior Rabbi in favor of Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal while I would remain a member of AA's rabbinic staff for two more years. Rabbi Rosenthal has served us well and with boundless caring. May he continue to do so for many years to come.

Nearly eleven months ago, during a time of rabbinic flux, our leadership asked me to temporarily return to the active rabbinic staff. It was an easy decision. I love you, and I love our congregation, so I was happy to help.

The months have flown by. God-willing, Susan and I will soon welcome a fourth grandchild (in Washington, DC). Susan has retired. My life and priorities have understandably changed. I am very pleased to hand my responsibilities over to Rabbi Michael Rothbaum. May he succeed magnificently in our spiritual community. May Rabbi Mike and his spouse, Anthony, become an integral part of our spiritual community and prosper within it.

When I entered the pulpit rabbinate, I had very little idea about what I was supposed to do. Slowly, I began to figure it out. I developed a "calling." I came to realize that I was meant to be a rabbi.

Forty-plus years later, I bring that rabbinic career to an end. You enabled me to "save the best for last." I interacted with people in pastoral situations that challenged me but also brought me great spiritual satisfaction. I spoke in settings that also challenged me but provided me with opportunities for growth. I was able to look at our congregants, understand their needs, and develop ways to reach out to them.

On Shabbat morning, December 28, I will reflect in my sermon on the meaning of my rabbinic career, especially to me. I hope you will join us in person or virtually.

I will always be a rabbi. I hope I will remain a Rabbi Emeritus of Ahavath Achim Synagogue. But my rabbinic career is now at a blessed end…" blessed" not because it is over but because you have helped me to share my skills and commitments with you in meaningful ways.

May the Holy One continue to bless the works of your hands and mine.

As I have previously told you, you have helped us to create our home in Atlanta. Atlanta is and will remain, God-willing, home. I look forward to seeing you at shul to enjoy the uplift of our spiritual community on Shabbat and holidays.

Rabbi Neil Sandler

Bringing Chanukah Light to Israel, Gaza, and All Those in Darkness

Posted on by Lauren Dube

Bringing Chanukah Light to Israel, Gaza, and All Those in Darkness

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Dear Beloved Community Members,

As the winter nights grow longer and we gather to light our chanukiot, I write to you with warmth in my heart and hope for our community. May this Festival of Lights bring renewed joy, peace, and blessing to each of your homes and families.

In challenging and joyous times, our community has remained a beacon of strength, support, and unity. Like the eternal light of the chanukiah, our bonds grow stronger with each passing day. May the light of Chanukah illuminate our paths forward and remind us of the ancient and present miracles that surround us.

As we celebrate Chanukah, we shine our light, knowing that too many in Israel are without celebration and light. We pray this Chanukah that light will replace the darkness and bring peace to all the people of that region. We pray that hostages will be freed from underground terror tunnels and brought into the light of the chanukiah, rejoining their families, surrounded by their light and warm embrace. Bring them home, now! We pray that the people of Gaza won't see the flames of Hamas' rockets firing from adjoining apartment windows or rooftops to launch attacks, making their homes a target. We pray that children will go to bed without the light of an explosion shattering their dreams.

I'd like to share with you a story that has been passed down through generations in the shtetls of Eastern Europe:

The Rebbe's Teaching on Light and Darkness

The great Rebbe of Kotzk once gathered his disciples on the first night of Chanukah. As they stood before the unlit menorah, he asked them, "Where does darkness go when we light a candle?"

His students offered various scholarly explanations about the nature of light and darkness, discussing complex philosophical ideas. The Rebbe listened patiently, then shook his head.

"When we light a single candle," the Rebbe explained, "darkness is not destroyed or pushed away. Rather, it is transformed into light. This is the deepest secret of Chanukah—that within the darkness itself lies the potential for great light. Just as the Maccabees found one small flask of pure oil that burned for eight days, we too can find that single point of light within ourselves that has the power to transform all darkness."

He continued, "Each night as we add another candle, we remind ourselves that our task is not to fight against darkness, but to increase light. And when we do this together as a community, even the darkest spaces become filled with divine radiance."

The disciples noted that on that night, the Rebbe's menorah seemed to burn with exceptional brightness, illuminating not just the room, but their hearts as well.

This story reminds us that each of us carries the power to spread light through acts of kindness and consideration for others. As we gather to light our menorahs this year, let us remember that our individual lights shine brightest when they illuminate the path for others.

With warmest wishes for a freylekhn khanike (Happy Chanukah),

Brooke and Laurence Rosenthal

A Message of Gratitude and Hope—Thanksgiving 2024

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Message of Gratitude and Hope—Thanksgiving 2024

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Dear Beloved Community,

As we gather this Thanksgiving, we are reminded of the profound Jewish tradition of hakarat hatov—recognizing the good that surrounds us. In a world often marked by complexity and challenge, our ability to pause and express gratitude becomes an act of spiritual resilience and hope.

Wisdom of Gratitude

The Hebrew word for thanksgiving, Todah, carries a deeper meaning than mere appreciation within it. It is an acknowledgment of divine blessing, a recognition that even in uncertain times, we are surrounded by miracles both large and small. Our tradition teaches us that gratitude is not just an emotion but a spiritual practice—a way of transforming our perception and opening our hearts to abundance.

Reflections on Blessing

In the spirit of our ancestors, we remember the words from Psalms: *"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever"* (Psalm 107:1). This Thanksgiving, we are called to:

  • Recognize the blessings of community that sustain us
  • Appreciate the freedom and opportunity we have been granted
  • Extend compassion to those who may be struggling or alone
  • Recommit ourselves to *tikkun olam*—the repair of our world

A Blessing for Our Community

May this day be filled with:

  • Warmth of family and chosen family
  • Abundance of sustenance and joy
  • Moments of connection and deep meaning
  • Hope for continued peace and understanding

As we gather around our tables, let us remember that gratitude is not just a feeling but an active choice—a radical act of hope in a world that sometimes seems fraught with challenges.

Chag Hodayah Sameach—A Joyous Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones.

With love and blessings,

Rebbetzin Brooke and Rabbi Laurence

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

By Neil Sandler
Rabbi Emeritus

Each year, I grow older. Each year, I add to the number of times I lead the Passover Seder. And each year, I add to the number of times I or someone else in our seder offers the familiar words from the Book of Exodus, "You shall tell your child." We reflect on those words and consider what it means to share the Passover story with our children and grandchildren. What sentiments are we to share with those who will follow us? What are the generations supposed to take away with them from the seder that addresses our people's past and enhances its future?

This year, a unique pre–Passover experience added a dimension to my understanding. Along with our cousins from Mississippi, Susan and I spent nearly one month in central Europe prior to Passover. On a tour of the Jewish section of Budapest, our guide shared the point of differentiation between the interior and exterior of the ghetto. There, at that point of differentiation, were the familiar Passover words of the Haggadah—"You shall teach your child."

A long time ago, I learned the world can be a difficult place to navigate. Sometimes, the world can be a very cruel place that causes harm and pain. At other times, the world can bring comfort and understanding. What does the world bring us at the Passover seder? The answers are not so simple. They may include the recognition of a world that continues to harm us. They may also encourage us to see a world that beckons us to care about the welfare of others even when we have no ostensible reason to do so.

This year, I learned that responses to the Passover seder declaration, "You shall teach your child," lie at the point where the world's ambivalence meets, where the interior and exterior of the Budapest ghetto meet. "You shall teach your child." What shall you teach? It's not an easy question.

Susan joins me in wishing you and your loved ones a very happy and healthy Passover.

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

By Neil Sandler
Rabbi Emeritus

As Susan, our cousins, Susan and Macy, and I move toward the end of our time together in Central Europe, my thoughts remain largely troubling. Take a look at my column in last week's e-blast, and you will be reminded. I have found Central Europe to be more challenging than I had anticipated. Was it naïve of me not to have considered some of these thoughts prior to our trip? Perhaps (If you are older than me, you'll definitely say I was naïve). It all started well and reassuring enough.

On Purim afternoon, we went to the large synagogue in Vienna. What a beautiful sight! Lots of young families! Oodles of energy! Hardly anyone there, adults and Chief Rabbi included, were old enough to have had a personal encounter with the Holocaust. Yet their physical presence, combined with their over–the–top Purim celebration, served as an ongoing statement about their rich spiritual lives in a place where Hitler sought to extinguish them. Later that week, we took an architectural tour in Munich that left me scratching my head and wondering.

Prior to World War II, the Germans had built two above–ground bunkers to protect an upscale neighborhood. With the war's conclusion, architects added two modern floors to the bunkers they had built prior to the war. When the architects and builders completed their work, they hosted the neighborhood for an "Open House." To all those people, was this building feat just that? Was it something to be "celebrated?" Did anyone remember the original purpose of this building and its bunkers? Did anyone recall their connection to the Holocaust? Did anyone lend any thought to considering how to psychologically and spiritually transform implements of mass – destruction into means of modern living?

Purim in Vienna provided moments of innocent beauty. But not much later, images in Munich provided much for thoughtful consideration. I find Central Europe to be a very complex place.

I look forward to returning home soon. Shabbat Shalom, and be well.

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

By Neil Sandler, Rabbi Emeritus

Susan and I are in the midst of a trip to Central Europe. Cultural life—music, dance, and art—is rich here. Over a year ago, we traveled to Spain with our cousins, Susan and Macy Hart. We had a wonderful time! So, when Macy and Susan invited us to join them for over three weeks in Austria, Germany, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Hungary, we jumped at the chance.

Each of these countries is beautiful; music, art, and dance, as I said, are all quite rich. More than seventy-five years after the Holocaust, I thought I had unconsciously reconciled myself. We will always memorialize the victims of the Holocaust, but we won't necessarily think about them every time we enter a place where they lived. I was naïve to have that thought.

My naivete and discomfort immediately struck me at our first stop, Vienna. The spoken German word has always sounded harsh to me. Sometimes, without understanding a single German word, I feel berated. The printed word can have the same effect on me. I saw the exact same sign on the bakery doors. But with all capital letters and exclamation marks, I felt like I had done something wrong. Whatever the sign said, I had misbehaved.

I can't fault you if, up to this point, you dismissed my remarks and even felt them to be a little bigoted. But something occurred at the threshold of our rental unit in Vienna that could not be easily dismissed. At many, yet not all units in the building, ornamental wash basins appeared. The basins might have had Jewish origins. Their origins may have been otherwise. But the area above our basin was unique. Unlike any other basin in the building (Susan checked), it had a swastika drawn above it. While one can explain that swastika in some number of ways, to me, the most obvious one is that someone wanted to communicate an anti–Jewish message to people who lived in the apartment or rented it.

I can't say much more. The landlord came over to make some repairs and clean off the swastika. Did I think he fully understood why we felt the swastika to be so disturbing? I don't think so. I honestly think this is the world in which we live today. Some people just don't get it.

We are a bit more than halfway into our trip. I will share some other experiences with you.

Shabbat Shalom.

Special Israel Healing and Protection Service

Posted on by Lauren Dube

Special Israel Healing and Protection Service

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Dear Friends,

As Israel moves forward with its operation to end this devastating war, we are now getting a clearer picture of the pain, suffering, and devastation that has occurred so far. My heart is broken as I think about the people who were murdered, injured, and taken hostage. This time is filled with great anxiety, and keeping our minds from approaching the worst possible outcome is hard. We know that much suffering is still to come and will take a lifetime of healing. 

In my letter to the congregation on Monday, I encouraged us to join for prayer online and in person (on the few days during the week that we open Ellman Chapel).

This Thursday, October 12, at 6:00 p.m., please join us in Ellman Chapel for a special Mincha/Ma'ariv Service, where we will offer special prayers of strength, healing, protection, and courage for the days ahead.

In addition, I received a meaningful suggestion that we open Ellman Chapel each morning and evening throughout this week (Wednesday Evening, October 11–Monday Morning, October 16) for anybody who would like to sit in our sacred Ellman Chapel prayer space with a few others as we join the online platform in prayer. This is a time when we feel so alone, and our heart cries out to our sisters and brothers in Aretz Israel. Being together might bring a bit of comfort and courage as we strengthen ourselves for the difficult road ahead. Anyone is welcome to join us during the following dates and times:

  • Wednesday, October 11, 6:00 p.m.: Evening Minyan
  • Thursday, October 12, 7:15 a.m.: Morning Minyan (with the Torah service)
  • Thursday, October 12, 6:00 p.m.: Special Israel Healing and Protection Service
  • Friday, October 13, 7:15 a.m.: Morning Minyan
  • Friday, October 13, 6:00 p.m.: Shabbat Evening Service,
  • Saturday, October 14, 9:30 a.m.: Shabbat Morning Service (with the Torah service)
  • Saturday, October 14, 6:00 p.m.: Mincha (with the Torah Service), Seudah Sheleshet, Ma'ariv, Havdallah
  • Sunday, October 15, 9:00 a.m.: Morning Minyan (Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan, with the Torah Service)
  • Sunday, October 15, 6:00 p.m.: Evening Minyan
  • Monday, October 16, 7:15 a.m.: Morning Minyan (Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan, with the Torah Service)

I will be there each morning and evening to warm the room, and I hope you will join me if that is meaningful. 

If you can't come during minyan time but would like to sit in the Ellman Chapel during regular business hours to offer your own prayers, please call the office (404.355.5222) and let them know when you would like to come by. We welcome you with open arms.

Sending strength and comfort for the days ahead.

A Statement About the Situation in Israel

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Statement About the Situation in Israel

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

I have heard from many of you regarding great concern for the current Israeli government and the legislative/judicial proposals that many fear will change the fabric of Israeli society for the foreseeable future. Reports of massive protests in the streets and countless articles by individuals of all stripes sharing their grave concern and protest of where Israel might be heading is worrisome. I have remained silent, because I, like most people that I have talked to, am struggling to fully understand the situation, what can be done about it, and my place in bringing change. I know that my first and most important job right now is to educate myself. Reading, learning, and seeking out a better understanding of the situation is the first step in any sort of advocacy. I suspect that many within our community are, like me, feeling uninformed. I have included a few articles that I have found meaningful along with websites that provide insight into Israel democracy and society.

The next priority needs to be engagement with Israel which leads to supporting the institutions and agencies that are making Israel into the amazing place it promises to be. I have always been impressed by our many congregants who have been lovers and supporters of the State of Israel. They travel there often—They have a go-to organization that they support and often serve on various boards and committees. However, I have been saddened by the lack of cohesion as a congregation regarding Israel advocacy and support. Therefore, I feel that an important step forward will be to create a strong group within the synagogue that can dialogue, share ideas, argue (respectfully) and work together to grow the support and love for Israel.

This internal struggle for the soul of the State of Israel is fodder for anti-Israel, anti-Zionist, and antisemites. With the rise of global antisemitism, this situation is adding fuel to those who don't need it. My concern, however, isn't about them but about us. We know that a growing number of Jews are questioning their willingness to remain engaged with Israel while still others don't even have Israel on their radar. To be true ambassadors for Israel, we need to speak from knowledge, compassion, and experience. In addition, some have speculated that the proposed legislative changes might impact the place that Israel plays as a haven for Jews from around the world.

This all still leaves me asking—What can we do? I have chosen to remain in the diaspora which means that I don't vote in Israeli elections. While we need to speak out, we need to ensure that our words and actions bring our people closer together and closer to Israel and not push us farther apart. I am proposing that we start by studying the issues together, unpacking the various articles that might have important points and create a space for us to share our love and concern for the State of Israel and all the people who call our sacred land, home. Please email me if you are willing to be a part of this conversation ([email protected]). Israel is made stronger when the bonds that bind us are strong. I hope you will join me.

A Reflection On the Life of Rabbi Arnold Goodman

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Reflection On the Life of Rabbi Arnold Goodman

By Rabbi Neil Sandler

When I think about Rabbi Arnold Goodman, of blessed memory, I almost invariably first remember my pre–Bar Mitzvah experience with him. In those days at the Adath Jeshurun in Minneapolis, Bar and Bat Mitzvah celebrants did not offer a D'var Torah on the weekly Torah Portion or Haftara. Instead, we wrote original prayers we offered at the end of the Torah Service as the Torah Scroll was returned to the Ark. Prior to my Bar Mitzvah, I wrote my draft prayer and sent it to Rabbi Goodman for his review. On the appointed day, my father and I went to the Adath office to pick up my final draft, as "edited" by Rabbi Goodman. This was the moment when I discovered that Rabbi Goodman was a magician! I hardly recognized a word in my prayer! Presto chango! It was all so different from what I had written! Today, more than fifty years after my Bar Mitzvah, I can remember only one phrase in that prayer, "As I don this tallit…" I remember turning to Dad after reading that phrase and asking, "Who is 'don' and what is he doing in my Bar Mitzvah prayer?!"

That was hardly the only "magic" that Rabbi Goodman performed over the course of his long and distinguished career in the rabbinate. If "magic" can loosely be thought of as envisioning and creating what might seem unimaginable, Rabbi Goodman truly was a magician. More accurately, he was a visionary and a model to learn from and emulate, especially for rabbis who served Conservative congregations. In Minneapolis and then here at Ahavath Achim, Rabbi Goodman brought a vision and plan to implement full egalitarian participation in worship. In 1975, the Adath Jeshurun, under Rabbi Goodman's leadership, built the "Kallah Center" in a "rural" Minneapolis suburb. The concept of creating Jewish immersion experiences outside of summer camps was still novel at the time. It was also very effective. And then there was that Rosh Hashana sermon later that year. As a teenager, I didn't really pay much attention to sermons (I was repaid for that cavalier attitude about sermons many times throughout my career). In 1975 at age 19 and spending my last High Holidays in Minneapolis, I listened to Rabbi Goodman speak. He yelled in anger. He prodded and, most importantly, he pushed people to act. Everyone was frozen in his/her chair, mesmerized by what they were witnessing. What they were witnessing was the unveiling of a vision for the "Chevra K'vod HaMet," an expression of a congregation's loving care for a deceased individual and his/her loved ones that supplemented the Chevra Kaddisha's preparation of the body for burial. My parents, of blessed memory, insisted that the Chevra K'vod Hamet provide its services at the time of their deaths. Without Rabbi Goodman, this choice likely would not have been available.

I was a "shul kid." My family was a "shul family." I remember formal Shabbat dinners and the delicious food at the Goodmans' home. I remember singing Shabbat songs around the table… and hearing my rabbi who didn't have the best voice. I remember watching Daniel (aka Dr. Goodman) run around the shul and sometimes get in trouble as I stood back to assure that I would not get caught up in this behavior "unbefitting the shul." The Goodmans and others at the Adath created a supportive environment that enabled eventual rabbis, future Jewish professionals, and good, committed, and caring Jews to take root and then, "fly" on their own.

Here is a personal piece of Rabbi Goodman's "magic…" convincing me to go to rabbinical school. In December 1977, I visited Rabbi Goodman back in Minneapolis after having begun non-rabbinical school studies at the Jewish Theological Seminary. I was planning to spend one year at the Seminary and then move on to a graduate program elsewhere. Rabbi Goodman explained why he thought I should go to rabbinical school. His advice was sound and helpful… and now, more than forty years later, I can reflect on a fulfilling career in the pulpit rabbinate.

When I succeeded Rabbi Goodman at Ahavath Achim, we developed a renewed relationship that brought each of us deep satisfaction. Although I had been a colleague of Rabbi Goodman for more years than I had been his congregant, prior to my coming to AA, our relationship was that of a rabbi–former congregant. Now the relationship grew in-depth, caring, and, yes, love. Rabbi Goodman would often call me to wish me well as Susan and I celebrated simchas over the years. Sometimes he would call just to check in with me. Whenever Rabbi Goodman came to Atlanta for his scholar–in–residence weekends (Shabbat learning experiences that often left me speechless as I watched him share with the congregation), he and I would sit for an hour or more to talk. He always asked about my family members — here and back in Minneapolis. Rabbi Goodman would always fill me in on his ever–expanding family. Then we would really talk. Our conversations were no longer the kind that rabbis and former congregants share. Now, the conversations were between rabbis who shared a love for the same congregation and community. Now, I saw a Rabbi Goodman who cared deeply about the well–being of our (and his) congregation long after he had ceded spiritual leadership of it. Now, I saw a Rabbi Goodman who was always striving—to learn more, to teach more, and to stimulate others' thinking and actions.

Rabbi Arnold Goodman, of blessed memory, was a wonder. His service to the Holy One, Israel, and the Jewish people brought continuing blessings and benefits to many people throughout his entire life.

A final word on the relationship Rabbi Goodman and I shared. I was named "Senior Rabbi" of Ahavath Achim Synagogue twenty years ago. Shortly thereafter, I attended the Rabbinical Assembly Convention in Israel. When I saw Rabbi Goodman, we embraced. Then we sat down. I told Rabbi Goodman that, irrespective of my advancing age, I would never call him "Arnold." To me, he would always be "Rabbi Goodman." And so it was for twenty more years.

Rabbi Arnold Goodman, of blessed memory, was a wise advisor to me. He was my mentor. He was my friend. I have always appreciated it when someone introduces me to someone I don't know and says, "This is my rabbi." I feel the warmth, respect, and pride in that statement. In that spirit, I conclude with heartfelt words, "Rabbi Arnold Goodman is my rabbi." He will always remain my rabbi. May our memories of the wisdom he shared with us, along with his kind and caring acts comfort us now and serve as a lasting tribute that will continue to resonate throughout our world.

And It Hits Home: A Message Concerning the Antisemitic Flyers

Posted on by Lauren Dube

And It Hits Home: A Message Concerning the Antisemitic Flyers

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Last week, I shared a message about the horrific murders of Shabbat worshipers coming out of a Jerusalem synagogue. This heinous act was followed closely by a firebomb thrown at the doors of a New Jersey Synagogue. This week, my inbox began filling up with notices from colleagues and congregants about antisemitic literature left on Dunwoody and Sandy Spring driveways as residents woke up on Sunday morning. Our local security detail that closely monitors Antisemitic activities in the Southeast does not see this act as a prelude to violence. Hopefully, this gives us a measure of comfort. However, this heinous act is deeply felt. Anger, fear, violation, and confusion are natural responses to this sort of activity. Unfortunately, shock is not one of the feelings anymore. Over the past few years, we have witnessed a steady increase in antisemitic actions everywhere, including Atlanta.

In my message last week, I offered a few ways we can support each other and push back against the social disease of antisemitism and the injury it hopes to inflict. I've offered this list again and added a few more ideas. In addition, below are some resources that will let us report, call out, and talk with those we love.

In this particular instance, there is something specific that we can do to push back against the evil messages left on our neighbor's driveway. The indiscriminate method by which these flyers were distributed leads me to believe that they were both trying to terrorize and recruit. This provides each of us, especially Jews who woke up with these disgusting messages on our property, with an opportunity and a responsibility. Knock on the door of your neighbor to the right and left of your house. If you received these vile messages, then your non-Jewish neighbors probably did as well. Talk to them about it. Invite them into the conversation. Make sure that their understanding and relationship with Judaism aren't the images that were scribbled on the paper. Instead, Judaism should be represented by the care, compassion, and sincerity on your face as you stand on their front porch. Hate is not defeated by hate. It is defeated by love. Our Torah gives us the wisdom we need:

וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ

Love your neighbor as yourself (Leviticus 19:18).

Let's go out and paint a different picture of Jews than the ones left on their driveways.

Resources:

  • The Anti-Defamation League (ADL), which tracks and responds to antisemitism in the community and national level, has jumped on responding to this incident. If you need to report an antisemitic incident, click here.
  • Each synagogue and spiritual institution has its own sacred rhythms and rituals which require a specific mindfulness to ensure our safety and security. The ADL in conjunction with the United Synagogue of Conservative Synagogues has created an important tool kit for communities like ours.
  • One of the most devastating conversatiosn about this sort of hate is with our children. The ADL provides meaningful tips for how to guide these conversations with your family.

Ways to fight antisemitism:

  • Join our antisemitism task force as part of ADL's (Anti-Defamation League) Kulanu Initiaitve. Email Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal to learn more ([email protected]).
  • Be an ally: Other groups are also being marginalized and terrorized in our country. Show up when they are threatened, and they will show up for us.
  • Live Jewishly. Loud and proud.
  • Click on news articles in your local press about antisemitism. The news agencies are watching our reading habits. If more people are reading about antisemitism, they will send their reporters out to cover it.
  • Know our history: Read books, watch films, and visit the Breman Museum and Kennesaw University's Museum of History and Holocaust Education. Attend Hemshech's 58th Annual Community Yom Hashoah Service of Remembrance on April 16 at Greenwood Cemetery.