My Week in the Digital Wilderness:

(AKA what to offer as a sermon when you don't feel inspired by the weekly Torah portion)

This is a story that happened this week, but in many ways it is eternal, about a person trying to vacillate between being a neighbor, being a leader, being a Jew, protecting herself and her family, and wondering whether to speak up at all. Who was it?

ME.

My family and I are city folk; we live in Egleston Square in Roxbury, just outside of Jamaica Plain (JP) and most of our personal social and communal life happens there. JP has a slew of Facebook groups that help network the community: there’s the standard one called Jamaica Plain, then JP Families, the perhaps the best one best - Jamaica COMPlain - for airing grievances, and there’s also JEWmaica Plain where people mostly ask to borrow yahrzeit candles, not to mention various Buy Nothing groups.

It was another average Tuesday morning in a world on fire, when a fellow JP resident shared the following post in the JP group.

OOF.

As I was drinking my cold brew, I felt that sense of WHOA well up in my body. Admittedly, my first question was: Is Russian Math School a Jewish organization?

Then, I turned to my husband. Should I say something? I asked him. Or should I stay out of it? He and a few other neighborhood friends said not to bother because trying to speak with someone who would write such a thing wasn’t worth my time.

I know and see all the time that fighting the good fight on social media these days never typically goes well. But as a rabbi and a human, what do you think I did? You guessed it. I didn’t listen to them and a few minutes later, I waded in.

Why?
Because as a rabbi and a Jew, a neighbor and a parent of a young child I felt it was my responsibility to call out this blatant anti-Semitism right away, all the while knowing it might set off a long day of social media frenzy for which I did not actually have the time or energy to participate.

I also understood that in the foreground of this post was genuine grief and anger about the latest reports of children dying from starvation in Gaza. As I debated what to say, it seemed that fewer words would be my best path.

And so I wrote:

The original poster responded in disagreement: “Antisemitism is Israel’s biggest weapon.”

I could sense within myself the desire to snap back, something mean, something harsh. But I actually decided with my next response to do the one thing that really angers people who spout anti-Semitic comments the most,

While I was firm, I remained nice and relatively polite.

Why? These days, people can barely hear each other as it is. And I know when I respond on social media that my name - Jen Gubitz - is not only easily googled but I am immediately associated as a rabbi in the Jewish community, connected with my family name which I cherish, and to the reputation I have worked to build my whole career. (Besides, being a jerk in public (or in private) isn’t a good look for so many other reasons.)

I expected this thread to get out of hand like most of their kind do. But I was relieved by back up from other neighbors calling out the anti-Semitic language.

I was honestly a bit surprised it was going well. I live in a predominantly well educated, well read, and thoughtful community of neighbors working to build a better world in Boston and beyond (many would call it gentrified.) AND it is also a super progressive and liberal enclave - that since October 7th is often dominated by language that at best excludes Jews or people who care for Israel in their advocacy and protests, and at worst - excoriates us.

Even though I saw people responding in kind, I felt the further need to double down with some anti-Semitism 101 about WHY her post was so problematic.

While I knew I wasn’t going to convince this particular person, I hoped for everyone else reading that maybe they could hear me, even if they didn’t agree with me.

I had expected the thread to blow up - but it actually didn’t. And I remain grateful to a lot of other neighbors - whose identities I don’t know who nonetheless joined me in solidarity and responded in kind. And then I drove to the Temple for our Tuesday morning staff meeting.

Unfortunately, it happened again on another JP facebook group of which the original poster was a moderator. It didn’t go as well, but I decided to be less involved and less invested; not to mention some of the other moderators identify as Jewish and were supportive of further hateful comments now primarily directed at Israel.

I continued about my day. But I never expected what happened next, as I soon found myself defending that same person who had written those terrible anti-Semitic words earlier that morning from a group in the Jewish community.

There is a different facebook group with a very different tenor called “Massachusetts Residents Fighting AntiSemitism.” It has 2100 members, and I joined it and many others like it so I can understand what people are talking about and how they are talking about things from all sides. I watch and read groups from the midwest where I grew up and I observe groups committed to anti-Zionism, too.

For context, the conversation the aforementioned group has galvanized is typically anti-DEI and uses the sort of language that refers to anyone with whom they disagree as a “terrorist.” While some of the things they fight I do agree with (like pushing the the Massachusetts Teachers Association to be less biased in their approach to Israel), this groups particular ethos (and probably politics) is rarely akin to mine.

In this group, the moderator posted screenshots of the JP woman’s profile, including her place of work. He encouraged participants to call her boss and tell them that Jews are not safe at her place of business in Jamaica Plain. It fell just short of fully doxxing her - by giving out significant information about her life.

And I couldn’t help myself:

The subsequent responses from the Jewish community probably shouldn't have surprised me, and, of course, I was surprised. They said things about me like:

“Complacency will get her killed. We need to help her get her head out of the sands of Sinai.”

“The lady above is probably the type that would vote for Mamdani.”

There are a lot of things I had on my todo list this week, but defending an anti-Semite from being doxxed by the Jewish community was not among them.

(Not to mention the very small side story occurring at the same time which was that the very person who posted such anti-Semitic comments that morning was also asking in the JEWmaica Plain group for clarity about her own Jewish heritage. I and many others responded to her there, too, kindly. And then I warned her privately that she was potentially being doxxed.)

I don’t share what I did with you to ask for your praise or for your ridicule, although it's genuinely fine if you disagree with me and I’m sure some of you might. But rather I share it to highlight what many clergy, educators, and Jewish community leaders and members - all of us really - are navigating right now.

As my classmates were discussing over WhatsApp what to talk about this Shabbat, my friend Evan said “Maybe we just talk about being sad about it all.”

Well, good timing Evan. When you look up at the moon tonight (this was written and delivered on July 25), you’ll see a small sliver telling us that the Hebrew month of Av, the month of great sadness and grief, begins.

And so - I’m sad and frustrated, and also really tired - that we are in this moment in time.

I am sad that we are in this moment in time where I do think that anti-Semitism is sometimes weaponized and certainly politicized.

I’m sad that we are in this moment in time where I don’t think it is fruitful to debate if or how many kids in Gaza are actually starving, rather we must hear and support the urgent moral call for humanitarian aid and nourishment to be delivered to innocent civilians, especially children.

It’s a moment in time where, of course, we must demand our hostages return home and an end to Hamas. That always goes without saying, and I know for some - you cannot hear me unless I say it.

And we must also demand that settler violence in the West Bank cease.

And we must also demand that the war in Gaza end.

My teacher Larry Hoffman wrote in a blog today that “Israel is a proper and necessary Jewish state; it needs secure borders; it does not need more territory.” I agree.

I also do not think it's innocuous that Israel and Jews are held to different standards then all other nations and peoples, and I’m not sure how to change public opinion at this point.

And I don’t want to be wrong if we don’t claim Austrian citizenship through my husband’s lineage. I just want my little boy to be able to walk safely through the world proudly carrying his Hebrew name. (And we gave him a lot of names, so this is no small task.)

So, you might be wondering, would I speak out like that again? And more broadly when should we stick our necks out - especially on social media spaces - and when should we burrow our heads in the sands of Sinai?

The truth is - it's been eternally difficult for me to watch something bad happen and not speak up about it, which is often a good trait to embody. But I’m not so sure I’d wade back into that predominantly Jewish communal group; I’m fairly certain that style of communication and form of protest is not how I want to show up in the world.

And so I pray for us all that in difficult moments like this, as we discern who and how we want to show up in this world, that we can try to listen to those with whom we disagree, and continue trying to teach and educate even when the message may be missed, always letting our Jewish values lead us along the way.

To donate to support humanitarian aid in Gaza, I encourage you to donate to the New Israel Fund or directly to World Central Kitchen.