Are we really here? Is this actually happening?
Those are just a couple of the questions that have been running through my mind recently — certainly since Oct. 7 and especially since learning that white supremacists have been showing up in person at Walnut Creek City Council meetings to direct hateful, antisemitic attacks at Kevin Wilk, the lone Jewish member of the council, and at the Jewish community at large.
As Kevin’s rabbi, it is particularly enraging to me that one of my beloved congregants has been a relentless victim of hatred.
Last summer, the Walnut Creek City Council decided to end the pandemic-era practice of letting people make public comments over Zoom because white supremacists were taking advantage of it to spew hate. But that move was not enough. Now they are turning up in the council chambers.
Many residents of Walnut Creek do not attend council meetings until something alarming occurs, which is exactly what has happened in my community. I knew very little about the structure of the meetings or of public comments. But as soon as I learned that men were driving from 90 minutes away in swastika-emblazoned, white-power T-shirts to speak for two minutes, I knew we had to start showing up. And when I heard the content of their hate speech — for example, that “whites are awoken and if these kikes don’t realize that their time is very limited in our lands, then we might just have a Holocaust for real this time” — I knew that my community could not do this work alone.
The immense pain in the world can feel immobilizing when we think we cannot do anything to change the tide that is turning against the Jewish people worldwide. But when it strikes close to home — in the city where our precious synagogue stands — that is a call to action.
There are extraordinary people who are willing to stand by our side in the fight against hatred and bigotry.
I cannot personally change the outcome of the devastating war in Gaza. I cannot influence the decisions of university presidents. I cannot bring the hostages home. But I can show up at our local city council meeting with my community members and beloved clergy friends and stand together in solidarity against hatred.
Are we really here? Is this actually happening?
Yes, we are. Yes, it is. And there is something we can do about it.
The recent events at the city council meetings have energized my belief that we can, in fact, change the course of history, one small act at a time. It has also reminded me that as much as we Jews may feel alone and isolated right now, we are not, in reality, alone. There are extraordinary people who are willing to stand by our side in the fight against hatred and bigotry.
At the council’s March 19 meeting, my friend and colleague Pastor Rustin Comer of St. Matthew church in Walnut Creek declared: “It is in moments like these that we reaffirm our commitment to creating a community that embraces tolerance, respect, and understanding. We pledge to work alongside our Jewish friends, and all marginalized groups, to combat bigotry in all its forms. We are dedicated to fostering an environment where every person, regardless of their faith, can live in peace and security, free from fear.”
It is words like these that should serve as a clarion call to all Jews who feel like there is no path forward, no way to find comfort, no avenue toward peace. There is!
It is our neighbors, our colleagues and our friends who are willing to stand with us and speak out. It is the actions of our public officials who are willing to issue a proclamation that May is American Jewish Heritage Month in the city of Walnut Creek, when other cities refuse such acts of courage. It is the members of our own congregations who overcome their fear and show up at city council meetings with rainbow flags embellished with the symbols of Judaism, Christianity and Islam to say that love is stronger than even the vilest hate. (Rainbow flags because, of course, these white supremacists also spread anti-LGBTQ hate during the city council meetings.)
The journey toward liberation is not singular to the Jewish people. It is a collective journey that must be taken by all people in order for all to be free. It may feel on our hardest days that we are wandering in the darkness alone, but my experience in the past few months in the broader Walnut Creek community is that we are very much embraced by the good people surrounding us and that we should feel comforted knowing we have strong and loving hands to hold us up when we feel that we might fall.
Rabbi Yitzhak Meir Alter, who lived two centuries ago, taught that the deepest darkness happens when a person cannot even see his neighbors and therefore cannot be there for them in their suffering and pain. If that is the definition of darkness, then Walnut Creek, our sweet town, is filled with light and hope.