Wednesday, February 21st, 2024

Many years ago, I got a new cleaning lady just before Pesach. She arrived as we were clearing out all of our kitchen cabinets and drawers, lining the shelves, and replacing the contents with entire double (meat/dairy) sets of dishes, pots, and cutlery. Finally, when she watched us pour boiling water over the countertops and into the stainless steel sink for kashering, then saw us furiously mopping up the flood of water that flowed onto the floor, she commented, “I could never be Jewish. Too much work.”

My late father used to say, sometimes with a sigh and sometimes with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, ” ‘Siz shver tsu zayn a Yid” which means “It’s hard to be a Jew.”

It’s hard to be a Jew before Sukkot, when we need to build a sukkah, decorate the sukkah, cook for the guests in the sukkah, then take everything down and put it away eight days later.  It’s easy to be a Jew during those eight days of celebration and revelry in between.

It’s hard to be a Jew before Pesach.  (See 1st paragraph above.) It’s easy to be a Jew during the holiday when we celebrate freedom by making a point to live (and eat!) like royalty.

It’s hard to be a Jew when our work colleagues are meeting at a non-kosher steakhouse and we can’t join them in a meal. It’s easy to be a Jew when our friends come over Erev Shabbat, and we eat and shmooze and laugh and sing zmirot late into the night.

It’s hard to be a Jew when we want to sleep in on Saturday morning but know we have to go to shul. It’s easy to be a Jew when we’re at shul and the sound of the davening lifts us, and we know that our prayers are made stronger as we join voices with others around us. (It’s also easy to be a Jew when we later climb into bed for our Shabbat afternoon nap, knowing that our phone won’t ring, doorbell won’t buzz, and nothing will disturb us for the next few hours.)

It’s hard to be a Jew when there are so many anti-Semites in the world who have been waiting for permission to unleash their hatred and, overnight, they get that permission en masse.  
It’s hard to be a Jew when, every time we go on social media, we see another photograph of a beautiful young IDF soldier who has fallen while defending our Homeland.
It’s hard to be a Jew when we watch the nightly news anchor reporting Hamas propaganda as if it’s truth.
It’s hard to be a Jew when leaders of countries where we love to vacation speak out against Israel, demanding a ceasefire, with not one word about the hostages.
It’s hard to be a Jew when we’re university students on campus in 2024.
It’s hard to be a Jew when non-Jewish people who have been our friends for decades say nothing about the war when they meet us for coffee to “catch up”.
It’s hard to be a Jew when we find ourselves completely and utterly outnumbered, so that even if we know we have the facts right, there is simply no convincing or reasoning with the angry, crazy, misguided throngs spewing hate.
It’s hard to be a Jew when the world wants us to make peace with our neighbour, but our neighbour wants us dead. 

It’s easy to be a Jew when we find one another, hold one another, commiserate, empathize, and support. It’s easy to be a Jew when we jump in to donate money, clothing, goods, whatever-is-needed to be sent to the families in Israel, or to the Israeli refugee families here in Toronto. It’s easy to be a Jew when we volunteer in Israel, picking fruit, packing soldier meals, taking over to do the work of someone away in Milu’im (reserves) to keep his business going. It’s easy to be a Jew when we stand together, wave the flag together, raise our voices together and shout to the world, “Bring. The. Hostages. Home. Now!” 

Am Yisrael Chai!