In 1914, my great-grandfather and namesake, Meir Shimon Moscowitz, fleeing pogroms and violence in Eastern Europe, settled in Chicago. He was seeking a better life than the one back home, filled with crippling poverty and the ever-looming specter of antisemitism.
America, to him, symbolized hope. It represented a new existence where individuals of all backgrounds could live peaceful and prosperous lives with liberties guaranteed to people of all religions. Known in Yiddish as the “Goldene Medina” or the “golden country,” America afforded a fulfillment of the promise of “e pluribus unum,” and for Jews fleeing persecution halfway across the globe, this meant everything.
My father and grandfather both lived and raised their families in Chicago. As leaders in the Jewish community, they lived as proud Jews in a city that provided a warm, welcoming and tolerant environment. I was born in 1978 and continued the line of proud Chicago Jewish leadership, helping my father from a young age with his mission to enrich Jewish life in the Windy City. After getting married, I returned to the Chicago area, where I’ve served the community for the past 21 years as a rabbi and Jewish educator.
Chicago hasn’t historically been associated with anti-Jewish hatred. The most notable exception took place a year before I was born. In 1977, neo-Nazis planned a march in the village of Skokie, where 1 out of 6 residents were Holocaust survivors. The heated U.S. Supreme Court case over the right for neo-Nazis to demonstrate greatly impacted the Jewish community, although the march was ultimately called off.
Because of the relative calm, antisemitism wasn’t always at the top of people’s minds in Chicago. In my role as a rabbi and regional director of Lubavitch-Chabad of Illinois, my engagement with the community has primarily focused on teaching and inspiring joyful Judaism rather than fighting against lunatic antisemites that sought to do our people harm.
However, after Oct. 7, the rising tide of antisemitic incidents in Chicago’s neighborhoods and college campuses has shaken our community to its core. There was the mock student newspaper at Northwestern University that aimed to intimidate Jewish students, calling them out for their beliefs. In the city, bags filled with antisemitic flyers and suspected rat poison appeared to be sent to Jewish homes. In the past several months, the concern among my congregants and community members about antisemitism has never been higher.
How do we, as communal leaders, respond to this unprecedented situation? In addition to enhancing security protocols and raising awareness, I believe the message of Passover offers invaluable guidance.
Resilience and fortitude in difficult times
On the eve of April 22 and 23, Jews around the world will sit down by the Seder to celebrate the exodus from Egypt. Of all the Jewish holidays and festivals, Passover is by far the most widely celebrated. According to a Pew Research Center survey, over 70% of Jews attend a Passover Seder, more than those who attend Yom Kippur services or light the Hanukkah candles.
The reason Passover resonates with Jews of all stripes is not just because of the delicious holiday food, the familiar songs or the meaningful family gatherings.
At its core, Passover celebrates the birth of the Jewish people and our resilience in the face of adversity. The story of the exodus, in fact, contains within it our people’s entire history. The Haggadah, the primary Passover text, encapsulates our 3,300 year history in the passage known as the Vehi She’amda. The verse reads, “In every generation a nation rises up to try and destroy us, but the Holy One rescues us from them.”
This passage embodies the nature of Jewish resilience and fortitude. In the face of persecution and attempted destruction, we persevere because of our continued connection to G-d and to one another. Amid chaos, fear and violence, the notion that our faith and our community are what get us through is deeply ingrained in the Jewish psyche.
My mentor and spiritual teacher, the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, taught that in the face of antisemitism, the best response is to strengthen our Jewish pride and practice. Following the attacks of Oct. 7, Jews around the U.S. did just that — reconnecting with their faith and their people. Known as the “great Jewish spiritual awakening,” Jews, many of whom had been non-practicing for decades, began attending synagogue, lighting Shabbat candles and participating in other public displays of Judaism.
This counter-intuitive approach, doubling down on our strengths in times of adversity, mirrors the essence of Passover. This instinctual understanding that our faith and our people have carried us through before is what will guide the Jewish people through the darkness that we now face. By uniting as one and embracing our heritage more deeply, we can overcome all obstacles in our path.
Rabbi Meir Moscowitz is regional director of Lubavitch Chabad of Illinois, senior rabbi at Chabad of Northbrook and longtime lecturer for the Jewish Learning Institute.
The Sun-Times welcomes letters to the editor and op-eds. See our guidelines.
The views and opinions expressed by contributors are their own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Chicago Sun-Times or any of its affiliates.
