Rabbi 360

I’m not deeply into the superhero genre, but I saw many of the Marvel movies with my sons and there has always been one scene about the Hulk that always stood out to me and I think about often.

The lore of the Hulk is that a scientist named Bruce Banner was experimenting with “gamma radiation” and exposed himself to a very high dosage. The result is the large, muscular, green alter-ego called the Hulk, who makes an appearance whenever Banner gets angry.

Part of the lore of the Hulk is that Bruce Banner could not regulate it, that the Hulk would emerge to fight and do damage based on Banner’s emotions, which, as we know, are hard to control. But then, in the movie The Avengers (2012), we learn that Banner has learned to control when Hulk appears. Tony Stark (Iron Man) tries to figure out Banner’s secret but Banner doesn’t say.

Then, later in the movie, during a tense moment in the climactic battle Captain America says, “Dr. Banner? Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Banner replies, “That’s my secret, Cap. I’m always angry.” He immediately turns into the Hulk and the fight continues.

Why do I think about this scene often? Now bear with me here, maybe this is a stretch, but I think about this scene often in the context of antisemitism. Meaning that antisemitism is so endemic, so pervasive, and so visible (particularly these days) we must continually rise up against it, fight back, and expose its various manifestations.

And at the same time there is a part of us that knows it will always be there and not completely defeated. Antisemitism has been around for thousands of years and does not show signs of going away anytime soon. We are always angry.

This week we witnessed another antisemitic attack on a synagogue, as an assailant drove a truck into Temple Israel in West Bloomfield, Michigan. While there was a preschool in session in the building at the time, thankfully none of the students or staff was hurt and everyone got out safe. The assailant was killed in an exchange of gunfire with the synagogue’s hired security. While the specifics are still being learned, it is being reported that the assailant was local and his family was tragically killed in Lebanon by Israeli airstrikes.

With this latest attack, we have seen that motives for antisemitic violence have run the gamut. The Tree of Life shooting in Pittsburgh was perpetrated by a right-wing shooter who was a proponent of the “great replacement” theory and troubled by that synagogue’s support of immigrant justice. The arson of the synagogue in Jackson, MS was done by a young man who is a follower of an extreme form of Christianity, and quoted anti-Jewish sentiments rooted in Scripture when he referred to the “synagogue of Satan” and said “Jesus Christ is Lord” at his arraignment. And this most recent attack in which American Jews were targeted because of the actions of the Israeli government.

And we know too that antisemitism has been made manifest in other, more subtle ways as well, both overtly and covertly. I recently noticed that comments under any social media post from Major League Baseball about Team Israel in the World Baseball Classic were full of antisemitic tropes such as Holocaust denial, money hoarding, etc.

So, yes, we are angry.

So what do we do? For one, we stay angry. We can not let hatred make us passive or complacent. We need to call it out when we see it. And not just about antisemitism. We need to call out hatred in all its forms including Islamophobia, transphobia, homophobia, misogyny and racism. It is a reminder that we are all interconnected, all made in the image of God.

We embrace compassion. While anger can motivate us towards good, so can compassion. While we are the victims of violence, we must not be the perpetrators as well. We must be careful that in response to when Jews are targeted as a group, that we do not target others as a group. We must continue to work for peace and justice.

We prepare. Ever since the Tree of Life shooting we have taken measures to mitigate risk and protect our community. We have installed physical features in and around our building, trained members in best practices and procedures, and built relationships beyond our community. We know that we can not prevent everything. But we have done a tremendous amount to create safety in seamless and inclusive ways without always needing to rely on others.

We take care of one another. Judaism is to be lived in community. And especially when times feel hard or threatening, we can remember that we are not alone, and that we need to look out for one another. Helping to meet each other’s needs, welcoming one another, being friends and allies are ways to build individual and communal resilience.

We show up. When an attack happens at a synagogue, I know the impulse is to stay away. We must push aside that impulse and continue to show up in Jewish spaces, and in public spaces as Jews. We must continue to create joy—to celebrate, to share, to observe, to pray, to sing, to laugh, to cry (and of course, eat) together.

And when we do that, we survive. For me, Jewish survival is nonnegotiable. And Jews have survived for thousands of years in the face of those who would write us out of existence, or make our existence conditional, by fighting hatred and by embracing our cultures, our traditions, our folkways, our rituals, our practices, our institutions, our communities.

That’s our secret.