Feast of the Holy Name and the rise of antisemitism
Greetings, St. Paul's, on this Feast of the Holy Name.
January 1 is remembered in the church calendar as the day Jesus would have been brought to the temple for naming and circumcision. As devout Jews, Mary and Joseph would have been eagerly awaiting the eighth day after his birth for this rite and ritual.
As the angel had instructed Joseph in his dream, they name him Jesus. The name Jesus comes to us from the same Hebrew name that gives us Joshua. It means "to deliver" or "to rescue".
I grew up in a church where the letters above, “IHS”, were stitched into the front of the altar hangings. As I child, I never knew what it meant. I heard "In His Service" and "I have suffered" as possibilities. (I must also confess, growing up outside Providence, I thought "INRI" over Jesus on the cross had something to do with the location.)
Turns out, the letters IHS are the first three letters of the Latinized Greek name for Jesus. For much of my childhood, the central symbol in our worship space, along with the cross (and sometimes on the cross), was the name of Jesus.
There is power in a name. When people in our scripture stories receive their names, we are meant to understand that they are a new creation. Abram becomes Abraham, Sarai become Sarah, Jacob becomes Israel.
The name we translate Jesus was a very common name for the Jewish people of the first century common era. It was a very Jewish name. The name at the center our our faith as Christians was a very Jewish name, for his parents and he were Jewish.
This may seem obvious to most of you, new to some of you, though it remains shocking to far too many. Or at least that is what the news leads me to believe.
The rise of hate crimes committed against our Jewish siblings is an abomination. To commit an act of anti-antisemitism against a neighbor is to do so to someone who our Lord and Savior would have called family, neighbor, or he himself.
I don't know how our beloved siblings in Christ don't get this, and it both saddens and angers me.
Our Jewish and Muslim neighbors are longing to feel as close to God as we long to feel. They are faithful in their practice and they make our lives richer for their very being. I can't imagine what my ministry in Brookline would be like if I didn't get to do it alongside the diverse and faithful colleagues in the Brookline Interfaith Clergy Association.
Yesterday morning I read an article about the fear many in the Jewish community understandably have and they need many are feeling to "go underground". One of the great delights of living in Brookline is the public reminders that we are surrounded by people at prayer at all times; walking down the street, at the market or bookstore, women and men wearing kippahs on their heads, children running with the tassels from their prayer shawls peeping out from under winter coats, families walking to Shabbat services.
Yesterday afternoon, I stopped at the market to buy last minute dinner fare. In front of me was a set of parents with a young child in the midst of a classic meltdown. The child had gone limp as mom tried to get him off the floor and into her arms. Dad was balancing mom's bag and son's scooter. I felt for them. Been there. Done that.
Through it all, though, the kippahs never moved from their heads. In the middle of the meltdown was a visible reminder that God was there, with them, in the mess. And I wondered if they felt any different putting their kippahs on before going out shopping given the news of the day. Did they feel less safe? Was the thought of being attacked, verbally or physically, one more pressure on this family just trying to get dinner and get home?
It is easy think that we are removed from the stories of the attacks, whether the graffitti in a Jewish cemetary, the slap on a New York sidewalk, the intentional running-over of a young latina girl, preceded by the running over of a young african-american boy. But we are not.
And I don't want us to wait until something so atrocious happens here that we are shamed in acting. There is much to be done right now.
And maybe what we can do right now will not change the world overnight, but we can do whatever we can to make sure the world does not change us. (1)
Perhaps you've seen the letter circulating on social media. It is from the Massachusetts Council of Churches. It is entitled, "Letter From Christian Leaders Decrying Violence Against Jews" You can find it here, and I encourage you to sign it. You are a Christian leader, too.
On Friday night, January 17th at 7:30pm, we will join Temple Sinai for an Interfaith MLK Shabbat Service. You can find more information here. Please plan to be with us.
On Sunday morning, January 19th, from 9-10, we will gather at St. Paul's in the Great Hall to write letters of solidarity and love to the worshiping communities of Brookline.
At the center of our faith is a Jewish name, borne by a Jewish man, raised by Jewish parents. Today we celebrate that name given to him during the Jewish rite of Circumcision. May that name inspire us always to remember how it was that Jesus came to be the Savior and Redeemer of the World.
In this New Year, may the name Jesus remain at the center of our attention and be the guiding heartbeat behind every word spoken every deed done.
In Jesus' name.
Jeff+
(1) Thanks to peace activist A.J. Muste, for this idea.