By Frank Goldsmith

Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers in their generations.

 – The Wisdom of Yehoshua ben Sirach (“Ecclesiasticus”) 44:1.  

We are in the month of Elul, the month of teshuvah, of taking stock of our moral account, of repentance, of seeking forgiveness, of returning to the path of righteousness.

We admit the many ways in which we have sinned, beating our hand against our chest with each phrase.  

Al ḥet sheḥatanu l’fanekha . . . 

“For the sin we have committed before you . . .” 

But the acrostic enumeration in the machzor, though extensive, is finite; can any list truly encompass the range of human failings?   

Al ḥet sheḥatanu l’fanekha b’yod’im uv’lo yod’im.

“For the sin we have committed before you knowingly and unknowingly.” 

How can we commit a sin unknowingly?  By remaining cloaked in ignorance, when some inquiry would cast a new light.

Such is the risk when we honor someone by erecting a monument.  Zebulon Vance, who was memorialized with a 75’ monument in downtown Asheville in 1897, was a complicated man whose life included, as do all lives, a mixture of the praiseworthy and the abominable.  

We are THRILLED to announce that starting in July, Rabbi Salem Pearce will be joining CJJ as our first ever Executive Director! 

When Pharaoh persisted in his refusal to liberate the children of Israel, Moses and Aaron warned him that God would punish both him and his people. Unlike the ten plagues that were inflicted upon the ancient Egyptians, we recognize that the plagues of today are rooted in oppression and injustice, not divine intervention. These long standing inequities are being exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic, causing disproportionate devastation to the most vulnerable members of our community. 

As part of our commitment to the creation of a just and compassionate North Carolina, CJJ has joined NC United for Survival & Beyond, a statewide coalition of grassroots organizations that has co-created a platform of ten demands for our Governor and the NC General Assembly. Read on for our contemporary interpretation of the ten plagues and how they relate to the ten demands of the People's Platform.

On Wednesday, March 11, CJJ joined Siembra NC and Apoyo at a press conference outside the Orange County Sheriff's Office to launch our Close the Loopholes Campaign, demanding that Sheriff Blackwood close the loopholes that have enabled ICE to take at least three of our community members in the last year. CJJ-Durham/Orange County member leader Esther Mack spoke on behalf of CJJ; below is an excerpt from her powerful statement.

By Barbara Weitz, CJJ-West leader

At Passover, we are called to remember the plight of all peoples in the world who, like us, retell the stories of deliverance from slavery to freedom.  This simple act of remembering has been repeated for hundreds of generations and continues to have a power and cultural currency beyond the holiday. Our own story remains a powerful source of identity and motivation for the descendants of the Israelites.  We were exiled from our homeland and enslaved in Egypt for four hundred years, and then stateless nomads for forty years in the wilderness of Sinai, at the mercy of the elements, often losing faith as danger surrounded us. 

By Peretz Cohn, CJJ/West Steering Committee Member

In the context of our heated and divisive regional and national politics, many communities in America feel increasingly threatened. As Jews, we witness with great trepidation the rise of antisemitism; our physical safety no longer taken for granted. Immigrants, people of color, Jews, Muslims, “ethnic Americans” from everywhere around the world, sense that we are living in perilous times.

There is much work to be done by the Jewish communities here in North Carolina, to speak out against antisemitism and all forms of social injustice. These times demand that we have the difficult conversations within our Jewish communities about antisemitism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, whiteness, and privilege within our own diverse — and often divided — Jewish communities as we continue to reach out to others who face even greater, and perhaps more immediate, external threats to their safety.

Our security lies in our diversity and solidarity with all communities impacted by racism, bigotry, oppression, and exclusion.

By Rabbi Meiri of Congregation Beth HaTephila, originally posted as Between You and Me (December 2019).

Last month, I was one of 30 people Carolina Jews for Justice gathered to make pilgrimage to Montgomery, Alabama.  Among the sites we visited were the Rosa Parks museum, Freedom Riders Museum, Dexter Street Baptist Church and the Equal Justice Initiative’s Legacy Museum and the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, all living testimonials dedicated to the process of truth and racial reconciliation that I believe are essential to our country’s healing and our collective future.

Here are a few immediate reflections:

This year on August 11, Carolina Jews for Justice/West sponsored a program on Tisha B’Av, a traditional Jewish day of mourning, at Congregation Beth Israel in Asheville; it is a time when Jews around the world remember some of the greatest tragedies of our history. Tisha B’Av also presents us with the opportunity to reflect on contemporary atrocities, and this year we are particularly compelled to reflect on the violent and dehumanizing treatment of immigrants and refugees in the U.S. – a modern day catastrophe that demands our attention, our voice, and our action. Action steps were discussed to enable those present to become actively engaged in efforts to support immigrants and refugees in our country. Following the service, CJJ/West Steering Committee member Frank Goldsmith looks on as Rabbi Justin Goldstein shows a Torah scroll to Magaly Urdiales, one of the speakers who represented the immigrant communities, and her son Joaquin.

By Emma Cohn, CJJ Board Member

A week ago on Shabbat, I found myself on a farm in western North Carolina with 28 other Southern Jews talking about white nationalist mushrooms.

I was sitting on a patch of grass at Yesod Farm and Kitchen, a teaching farm and spiritual center in Fairview, a small town in the Appalachian Blue Ridge Mountains. I was there for the #WeAreHere retreat, a training held by the social action organization Carolina Jews for Justice to teach community organizers from across North Carolina, Georgia, and Tennessee how to lead workshops on white supremacy, white nationalism, and antisemitism. Light stuff.

But I was also there in search of a home.