Touch Of Transcendence
Eternal Lessons in Times of Rising Anti-Semitism
Who takes pride in the current Iranian regime? As it turns out, not the people who actually live there. According to the Tony Blair Institute, 81% disapprove of the prevailing Islamic Republic.
But the Ayatollahs need not fret. Because these days, plenty of people are smitten with their oppressive state. Among the current wave of anti-Israel protesters exists a growing cadre of terrorist super fans. By now, you've probably seen the countless videos of pro-Palestinian activists breathlessly calling for Iran and Yemen to make us proud. And look, I get it; we all like to root for one team and loathe another. Both pro-Palestinians and the Houthis dislike Israel, so the partnership seemed like a decent fit. At some point, though, you've got to ask the question: Why are many anti-Zionists supporting groups who want to exterminate Jews?
Let's locate ourselves in the minds of those who genuinely consider Israel an equal evil to Iran, the world's foremost exporter of terrorism. From here, you should notice that this Jihad love-in still fails to add up. Just because Israel is terrible, does that make Iran good? Surely, Iran and Israel can both be wrong without cancelling each other out in a zero-sum game of who's the Big Bad? Spraying Chanel No. 5 on a mongrel won't render it a Poodle. And no amount of vilifying Israel will magically transform brutal Houthi killers into dovish peaceniks. It simply doesn't make sense.
There's an easy answer here. Some of these people really don't like Jews. Of course, most will fiercely deny such accusations. "We're not antisemitic", they cry, "we're resisting Zionist Imperialist colonialism". That's great and all. But, it still doesn't explain your gung-ho support for jihadists giddy over Jewish blood.
Call me pessimistic; I just don't think we can ever change some people's minds. Truly, we've stepped into the theatre of the absurd when staunch liberals proudly profess the value of human life whilst simultaneously goading on homicidal fanatics. That's a level of dissonance beyond comprehension. And yet, it is amidst the madness that I find comfort. Comfort at a time when I have never felt so alienated from society at large. Because something about this ever-spawning Jew hatred runs deeper than any normal person should be able to self-rationalise. Current anti-Semitism feels intensely metaphysical.
With Pesach fast approaching, we would be wise to consider how some of its numerous lessons inform our present moment. The Hebrew people were so enmeshed in Egyptian society that Moshe later framed the Exodus as the extraction of one nation from the womb of another. Only through God's intervention was our distinct identity revived and reaffirmed.
This time last year, I felt entirely welcome as a member of the public at large. I think most Jews would agree that things are different now. There is a tension, a nervousness that wasn't there before. When I walk outside, I am constantly mindful of my Jewishness. In a way, I've experienced a personal exodus from my milieu, a painfully profound realisation that I will never really belong, that I will always be different. Yet, I think we can take more from our prevailing predicament than just immediate discomfort. Let me explain.
God describes his participation in the Exodus as performed with:
“a strong hand and an outstretched arm.”
{Devarim 26:8}
Now, I have been criticized for abusing my poetic license to over-describe things. The Torah, in contrast, is painstakingly exact with its language. Its inclusion of both 'a strong hand' and 'an outstretched arm' appears superfluous. Is there a significance to this double terminology?
In Jewish thought, touch represents proximity. Sensory pain or comfort conveys information about our immediate surroundings. On its own, touch is an incredibly basic tool. Even uncomplicated organisms can be trained to avoid or pursue specific stimuli based on whether contact hurts or helps. The metaphor of God's 'strong hand' conveys this immediacy. The punishments rained down upon Ancient Egypt had a very pragmatic purpose: forcing them to free the Hebrew nation from slavery.
Nevertheless, the exodus miracles aimed to accomplish more than one-dimensional results. When the Jewish people saw the punishment of their subjugators, they didn't count their lucky stars and move on. Instead, they grasped a more profound truth: that beyond direct experience lay a fundamental spiritual reality, an entity whose presence infinitely transcended place and time. This historic realisation is symbolised by God's 'outstretched arm'. For an arm entails a scope far beyond the direct impact of the hand.
It's not easy to remove ourselves from the moment's distress. But now is not a time to retreat into ourselves. In our ongoing encounters with virulent anti-Semitism, we must look beyond the painful direct blows and focus on the broader spiritual reality unfolding. Something is jarring about the current wave of hatred. It calls us to another level of identity and purpose - to stand firm in our Judaism, knowing that the outstretched arm of the Almighty guides us. And who knows? Perhaps through our steadfast faith and resilience, we will witness the unveiling of an even greater Divine plan—a time when God will transform this darkness into unprecedented light.
Keep Pondering, and Have A Wonderful Pesach!
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Agreed. We are entering a brave new world.
Great piece- much to think about. Chag kasher ve'sameach!