The Anger I Didn’t Ask For

It's been a rough couple of weeks.

First, I got in a very public argument on Facebook with a now former "friend" because I posted a pro-American video by an Israeli account I follow.

Now please understand, I have strong political opinions, but I also like and respect my friends. They don't have to agree with me, and many don't. I enjoy the lively discussions and sometimes they even bring me around to their view on something. What they think about the President is not something I take into account when deciding whether we should be friends.

But there are limits. The conversation in question very quickly went from, "I disagree with your view on the President's recent actions" to "Jews use the Holocaust as an excuse and are trying to take over the Middle East". That got an angry takedown and a block from me.

I hate these discussions, but they happen more often than I'd like. I've lost a small percentage of friends since the Hamas attacks on Israeli citizens on October 7, 2023. Honestly, when I see what's happened since then I'm grateful that it was such a small percentage, but even those weigh heavily on me. They leave me angry and tired and disappointed and sad. I liked that person and it's upsetting to learn that's what she thought about Jews (and by extension, me) all along.

Just as I had gotten over that, I found another one. This time it was the other person's post that triggered the argument. I expressed my disappointment and surprise that he had joined in the Jew-bashing. He defended it. This is a young person whom I had been very impressed with over the years. We were never close friends, but I had seen him graduate from college, get an advanced degree, start a business and get married. I was proud of him and he gave me hope for the future of our country.

More than the first one, this incident disturbs me to my core. America has been very good to the Jews. I have always loved this country with a fervor normally reserved for religion. Being born Jewish 25 years after the end of the Holocaust gave me a clear understanding of what a great country this is. It might not be perfect and there still might be people who didn't like me for being a Jew, but nobody was trying to kill me or run us out of the country.

If you're wondering why Jews are so sensitive to antisemitism, it's because we know how quickly it devolves into violence. For perspective, here is a slide from a presentation I'm giving next month on Israel and Jewish history.

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I hate these fights. I'm exhausted by them and the feelings I'm left with, but I have to fight. I know more about the Arab-Israeli conflict than most people. I've been following it for 25 years. I've made long visits to Israel. I've talked with Israeli soldiers and Palestinians in the West Bank. I know what's going on and I can't let my own people be libeled and slandered without speaking up. Maybe the people who hate us will win, but at least I will have tried to hold back the tide of lies.

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What now?

I heard an interesting story about a Jew in pre-war Europe who always had a compulsion to steal. He wrestled mightily with this desire since the Torah clearly says stealing is forbidden, but the compulsion was always there.

One day during the war, the Nazis summoned him. He waited with a group of other people similarly summoned and they listened in horror as screams came from the interrogation rooms.

Finally, this fellow was called for his turn. He was taken to a room filled with desks and at each desk was a Nazi officer and a civilian being interrogated. The questioning started, but suddenly all the Nazi officers were called out of the room.

Somehow, he found himself alone in this office. Looking around, he noticed a piles of passports and papers on the desk. These were the papers of Jews who were to be rounded up and sent to the concentration camps. He looked at the door, looked at the papers and looked at the door again. In one practiced movement, he scooped up the papers and hid them under his shirt. He left the office and walked out of the building, unmolested.

After that, he never had an urge to steal again.

Maybe that's a lesson for me. You see, I've been angry for much of my life, regardless of having a relatively ordinary childhood and young adulthood. I don't know why. Maybe it's the long-term fallout of being relentlessly harassed by boys as a teenage girl or maybe my brain just manufactures it out of nothing. Somehow, though most people will never see it, the anger bubbles just under the surface and my biggest moral struggle has been to control it. "We don't take our anger out on other people," I frequently say to myself, severely repeating a self-made law.

But there is one place where this anger is useful. I am compelled to defend myself whenever necessary. I'm not inclined to let people attack me with no consequences. Ready or not, I find myself in the fray, once again, whether I'm prepared or not.

Does it have a purpose?

Maybe the anger has a purpose. Maybe God put this in me so that I would defend the Jewish people. After all, we've survived all these centuries against all odds and it seems reasonable that God puts characteristics in people to help them align their mission with God's mission. Even otherwise negative characteristics.

So yes, I am angry. I'm as angry as those young harridans shouting "Globalize the Intifada", though perhaps better disciplined and certainly more cognizant of what I am saying. And I suppose I may as well accept that I'm going to end up in arguments over the right of Jews to exist, the right to have one tiny state where we can govern ourselves, the right to fight back when we are attacked.

And maybe, just maybe, when all of this is over I won't be so angry anymore.

If only I could do it without feeling so disappointed and betrayed. I can handle the rage, but the betrayal truly stings.

May that be a sign that my soul is unencumbered by the rage and I'm still connected to God's mission for me.

Deuteronomy 30:19 –

"I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life…"

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