O pinion
We Were Interrupted. We Were Not Stopped.

BY U.S. REP. SUSAN WILD
ON JAN. 6, 2021, in the midst
of unfolding chaos — the sounds
of gunfire and shattering glass
echoing around me — I made
one of the toughest phone calls of
my life. I FaceTimed my 27-year-
old son and 24-year-old daughter,
Clay and Addie, to see their faces
and to tell them how much I
loved them. While I tried hard
to steady my voice and project
some semblance of confidence, I
had never experienced the kind of
terror I felt in that moment.

Let’s be clear on what took
place last week: Domestic
terrorists — armed with guns,
improvised explosive devices
(IEDs) including pipe bombs and
Molotov cocktails, tear gas and
other weapons — stormed the
United States Capitol and brought
democracy to a halt. Breaching
one layer of security after another,
they reached the doors of the
House chamber — pounding on
the doors and breaking glass to
try to force their way in.

As revealed by the images that
have since been broadcast across
our country and around the
world, a thin line of officers had
to rely on their own bodies and
a makeshift barricade of nearby
furniture to keep the violent mob
from overrunning them and
breaking into the House chamber
— an outcome which, according
to every indication, would have
resulted in a massacre. It’s a
miracle that more people didn’t
lose their lives. As Reuters
journalist Tim Bourg stated,
“I heard at least three different
rioters at the Capitol say that
they hoped to find Vice President
Mike Pence and execute him by
hanging him from a Capitol Hill
tree as a traitor. It was a common
line being repeated. Many more
were just talking about how the
VP should be executed.”
Vice President Pence, Speaker
Nancy Pelosi and the representa-
tives on the floor were escorted
out as the mayhem broke out.

But those of us up in the gallery
found ourselves trapped. Officers
trained their weapons on the
doors behind us. Feeling a sharp
surge of panic as I tried to process
what was happening, I sheltered
under my seat. My colleague
and friend Rep. Jason Crow of
Colorado — a veteran who was
awarded the Bronze Star for
valor in combat — gripped my
hand and assured me that we
would make it out alive.

In the tension of the moment,
I lost track of time.

I couldn’t tell whether five or
30 minutes had passed since the
officers had shouted instructions
to retrieve gas masks under our
seats and start crawling toward
escape on the far side of the
gallery. Finally, we were able to
evacuate under their protection.

Members who had served
in the military and had experi-
ence with gas masks from their
days in combat — Rep. Crow,
Rep. Ruben Gallego and others
— helped civilians adjust the
equipment. With officers leading
the way, we filed out through the
long, labyrinthine hallways of
the Capitol, eventually reaching
our secure location — a large
committee conference room.

We stayed sequestered
in that location for hours as
Capitol Police worked to regain
control and track down all those
who had spread out across the
complex. Photos and videos
captured by resolute journal-
ists show the nature of these
individuals and the ideology that
motivated them: the neo-Nazi
wearing clothing emblazoned
with “Camp Auschwitz” — only
one of myriad anti-Semitic and
racist symbols and paraphernalia
proliferating throughout the
crowd; the nooses left hanging
across the complex, and the
gallows the perpetuators had
set up outside; the Confederate
flags carried inside the Capitol;
the white supremacist “OK”
and Nazi salutes; the phrase
“Murder the media” etched into
one of the Capitol’s doors; acts
of theft, vandalism and desecra-
tion committed in offices and on
the floor of the chamber; and,
most importantly, the violence —
violence resulting in the deaths of
five people and scores of serious
injuries, including the death of
a brave Capitol Police officer,
Officer Brian Sicknick, who died
protecting his country against
those who would betray it.

Those who attacked the
Capitol were not patriots. They
are traitors with blood on their
hands. They must be treated
as such and prosecuted to the
fullest extent of the law.

But to pretend that this
event somehow happened in
a vacuum — the work of the
individuals who participated in
the physical breach alone —
would be profoundly false.

Earlier that same day, after
all, the president had whipped
the crowd into a frenzy, reiter-
ating his false and destructive
claims that the election had been
stolen and telling his supporters
to “walk down to the Capitol”
and saying, “Our country has
had enough. We’re not going to
take it anymore.” “Fight!” he told
them. After lying for months
about the election and the possi-
bility of overturning the results,
the president and those objecting
to the election’s certification in
Congress had led their supporters
to expect an impossible outcome.

When the mob stormed the
Capitol that afternoon, they were
trying to prevent us from doing
our constitutional duty. But late
that night, after midnight and
into the early hours of the next
morning, I was back on the
House floor with my colleagues
to do my duty. Critically,
Congress was interrupted but
not stopped. The will of the
American people prevailed.

I believe we must take
immediate steps to ensure
that this president does not do
further damage to our democ-
racy in the last weeks of his term.

But these immediate steps, while
necessary, are insufficient. Once
this chapter has passed and the
new administration is in place,
my colleagues and I must work
to make our democracy stronger
over the long run, to address the
culture of violence, xenophobia
and intimidation that has taken
root in our society. And, regard-
less of political affiliation, we
must all make clear that what
happened this week will never be
allowed to happen again.

Our country deserves better.

The attack on the Capitol was
an attack on our nation and an
insult to every American. We
must, and we will, rise above it. l
Congresswoman Susan Wild
was the first woman elected to
serve Pennsylvania’s Seventh
Congressional District in the
House of Representatives and
the only Jewish federally elected
Pennsylvania official. The former
Allentown solicitor lives in the
Lehigh Valley.

When the Prayer for the Government Takes on New Meaning
BY RABBI MENACHEM CREDITOR
16 JANUARY 14, 2021
I REMEMBER MANY years
ago feeling ambivalent about the
prayer for the government recited
in synagogues every Shabbat
morning. Were we sanctifying
the policies of an administration?
What of political leaders who
would use religious language
in pursuit of their particular
agendas? I wondered: Isn’t God
bigger than that?
My feelings have changed as
I’ve grown older, but never have I
prayed as deeply for the govern-
ment of the United States as I
did last week, upon witnessing a
violent mob attack our nation’s
capital. Professional journal-
ists and smartphone-wielding
citizens made clear that we were
in dire need of heaven’s help.

On Jan. 6, my children asked
me to explain the inexplicable,
and my response was a worried,
stumbling prayer: Please God,
protect our government’s leaders,
JEWISH EXPONENT
who have been whisked away from
the very heart of America because
of the threat of physical harm.

Regardless of a citizen’s polit-
ical commitments regarding
small government or universal
health care, fiscal conservatism
or foreign policy, the ancient sage
Rabbi Chanina, the deputy high
priest of his day, defined what it
means to pray for the government
when he said: “One should pray
for the welfare of the government,
as were it not for the fear of the
government, every person would
swallow their neighbor alive.” The
violence in Washington, D.C.,
proved him right.

The common good is a
fragile thing, and its preserva-
tion depends upon the collective
stewardship of our leaders. Jewish
history is replete with examples
of how easy it can be for a leader
to incite societal fissures. Just
last week, we read in the Torah
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM



O pinion
of Pharaoh’s successful method
of incremental dehumanization
of our ancestors, fomenting a
division between us (Israelites)
and them (“real” Egyptians).

Jews have learned to trust the
psalmist who warned not to
place eternal “trust in princes
or kings.” But we have also
learned to ask heaven’s help in
appointing leaders who will act
in good trust. In other words, we
pray that our government will
succeed at keeping faith with the
people it is called to serve.

The desecration of America’s
national symbols, the wielding
of weapons on the Congress
floor, the assault on law enforce-
ment and the leaders they were
sworn to protect was nothing
less than an assault on the
health of our country, an act of
American blasphemy.

A faithful person, according
to the great American civil rights
leader Rabbi Abraham Joshua
Heschel, “holds God and man
in one thought at one time, at all
times, who suffers harm done to
others, whose greatest passion
is compassion, whose greatest
strength is love and defiance of
despair.” When a Jew beseeches God to
protect the government, it isn’t
a partisan prayer or the expec-
tation that God will explicitly
intervene in a historical moment.

A prayer for the government is
a kind of citizen’s Hippocratic
Oath. We pledge to protect each
other from harm.

This prayer is a traditional
commitment to society’s welfare,
a ritualized way of ingraining in
the collective Jewish conscience
the biggest command of
all: loving our neighbors as
ourselves. So let us pray. l
Rabbi Menachem Creditor is
the scholar in residence at UJA-
Federation New York. This piece
was first published by JTA.

KVETCH ’N’ KVELL
We Must Be More Inclusive
LETTER-WRITER BETTE KLEIN comments on an article
you published, “Interfaith Couples Navigate Holiday Season”
(Dec. 10), and the effect on Jewish grandchildren. She fails to
understand reality.

I’m an older mom who never would have considered marrying
a non-Jewish man. Times have changed. I have two sons. One
married Jewish, the other not. I love my sons, and I love their
wives. They are all wonderful parents, and I have four grandkids.

In today’s world, we must be more inclusive because we have to.

I can’t reject my son, and I have to accept his choices, including
not having Jewish grandkids.

The reality is that lots of Jews are marrying out, some raising
their kids Jewish and some not. In my case, they’re not raising
their sons Christian or Jewish, just to be good and ethical people.

I can’t ask for anything more.

Susan Yemin | Westfield, New Jersey
B’Nei Mitzvot Are About the Children
I enjoyed reading “Has COVID Killed the B’nei Mitzvah Party?”
(Alex Lazarus Klein, Dec. 28). As an event planner/ designer I
sometimes think I’ve seen it all, but then find myself mistaken.

When parents would agonize who was coming and not coming
to their simcha, I had a simple piece of advice: When you are
facing the bimah, watching your child, it won’t matter who is
sitting behind you. It’s all about your child in that moment. l
Zozzie Golden | via jewishexponent.com
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM Mourning and Joy — at the Same Time
BY RABBI EREZ SHERMAN
THERE ARE PASSAGES of
the Talmud that you learn in
the sacred books and are purely
theoretical, and then there are
pieces of Torah that become your
reality in the blink of an eye.

The famous teaching from
Masechet Ketubot, for example,
instructs, “If a funeral proces-
sion and a wedding procession
meet at an intersection, the
wedding procession goes first.”
Last Wednesday, this
teaching was not rabbinic
advice, but the reality I lived. My
beloved aunt, Rachel Durlacher
(z”l), passed away in Israel.

At 16, she made aliyah from
Philadelphia, met her husband
on Kibbutz Sde Eliyahu and had
10 children and 37 grandchil-
dren. She truly loved the land
and the Jewish people. If you
have ever traveled to Israel with
me, personally or profession-
ally, there was a 100% chance
you met Aunt Rachel.

Rachel never left home
without her chalil, a simple
wooden flute, which she used
to serenade God’s world with
her voice, with her songs, with
her heart and with her soul.

She never left home without a
paintbrush and canvas, putting
the beauty of God’s world on
paper for all of us to witness.

And she never left home
without something to give to
someone in need: a shekel, a
gift, a snack, a piece of Torah.

With the miracle of Zoom,
our family gathered from the
four corners of the earth — at
4:30 a.m. in Los Angeles and 1:30
p.m. in Israel — to remember
JEWISH EXPONENT
her sacred life. But just hours
later, we were scheduled, also
with the miracle of technology,
to celebrate my sister’s wedding.

Nitza and her fiancé Jamie had
waited patiently as COVID-19
postponed the original chupa
date. As they watched world
circumstances deteriorate,
they rescheduled the wedding,
providing us with a moment to
find joy in challenging times.

And we did. For life must
continue, and joy must be
recognized and not delayed.

Seven different family members
around the world recited sheva
brachot, toasts and speeches
through a screen. At the end of
the evening, a bride and groom
rejoiced uvchutzot yerushalayim,
in the streets of Jerusalem.

As I laid my head to sleep
on Wednesday night, I could
not help but marvel at the
wisdom of our tradition. Every
morning, we recite the Psalm,
hafachta mispdi lmachol li,
pitachta saki vatazreni simcha
— God, You turn my mourning
into dancing, You change my
sackcloth into robes of joy. And
that Wednesday, as one part of
my family sat shiva, the other
part recited sheva brachot.

At each wedding I officiate,
I explain the significance of
the number seven, a number of
wholeness and holiness. Shabbat
is on the seventh day, a number
of peace and of completeness.

And yet, as we uttered the
sheva brachot in a moment of
completeness, my family across
the world was also broken.

When we conclude a Jewish
wedding with the smashing of
the glass, we are reminded of the
broken souls who yet wait for a
day of celebration and joy. At the
same time our cousins tore their
garments for keriah in Israel,
we broke a glass in Los Angeles.

Two symbols of brokenness, and
yet two rituals of rebuilding.

Our extended family
has a WhatsApp group. It
is constantly in action, with
family members around the
world, 10 hours apart, talking.

These last seven days have
been particularly active, with
memories that created our
present and recent pictures that
will create our future together.

This year has been a challenge
for each one of us. There has
been mourning and joy all at
once, too many times to count.

As a rabbi, I have learned to
officiate Zoom baby namings,
b’nai mitzvah, funerals and
weddings. From Zoom room to
Zoom room, families stare at me
over a screen in preparation for
these life cycle events, skeptical
that any meaning can come
without physical touch.

But then I receive letters, week
after week, of grateful members
of our community, who now do
not need to imagine a grand-
parent across the country having
an aliyah at a bar mitzvah or
a cousin sharing a story they
have never heard at a shiva.

Community works, despite
physical distance, because of
social and spiritual closeness.

Twelve hours: a funeral and
a wedding; sheva brachot and
shiva; tears of mourning, tears
of joy; a soul remembered and
two souls. It is who we are, and
who we must be. l
Rabbi Erez Sherman is a rabbi at
Sinai Temple in Los Angeles and
the son of Rabbi Charles Sherman
of Melrose B’nai Israel Emanu-
El in Elkins Park. This piece was
originally published in the Los
Angeles Jewish Journal and is
reprinted with permission.

STATEMENT FROM THE PUBLISHER
We are a diverse community. The views expressed in the signed opinion columns and let-
ters to the editor published in the Jewish Exponent are those of the authors. They do
not necessarily reflect the views of the officers and boards of the Jewish Publishing
Group, the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia or the Jewish Exponent. Send
letters to letters@jewishexponent.com or fax to 215-569-3389. Letters should be a
maximum of 200 words and may be edited for clarity and brevity. Unsigned letters will not be
published. JANUARY 14, 2021
17