“Joy is the ultimate medicine and remedy against fear” (Carlos Santana)
Last Friday night, shortly after the evening Shabbat service at New York’s Central Synagogue began, it was disrupted by a man who stormed the sanctuary, tried to get to the rabbis and cantor on the Bimah (the platform), knocked over lighted Shabbat candles, and screamed anti-Semitic and racial slurs. He was subdued by synagogue security and by an NYPD officer who was working a paid security detail.
As he was being escorted out, the man struck a female member of the congregation who was sitting in a pew and headbutted and spat on the security officer.
The Manhattan District Attorney’s Office has charged him with multiple offenses, including four counts of assault as a hate crime, criminal mischief as a hate crime, and disruption of a religious service.
I was livestreaming the service when this happened, and it was quite frightening to say the least. My connection with Central Synagogue is very close. My conversion was at Central. The rabbis and the cantor on the Bimah that night are all known to me, and many friends were present in the service.
Rabbi Andrew is the rabbi for Central’s online members and has been personally encouraging to me. I was in a Zoom gathering with him the evening before this incident. Rabbi Rebecca, in a Saturday morning service just after my conversion in 2024, gave me the honor of asking me to open the Ark. And I’ve been part of Zoom gatherings with Rabbi Rachel and Cantor Jenna.
They all responded on Friday night with fear at first, yes, but also with great grace and professionalism. Rabbi Andrew calmed the congregation. Rabbi Rachel extended that calm by having everyone sit quietly and just breathe. These services always begin with joyful singing, and Cantor Jenna, although shaken, re-started the song that had been interrupted. Rabbi Rebecca modified her prepared sermon to speak to the situation.
In other words, the service continued, and joy returned.
The following morning’s service was packed with synagogue members and with those of us who don’t live in New York but who Zoom in to Saturday services. It, too, was a joyful service.
Growing up in Appalachia, I often heard people speaking of joy “in the sweet by and by” or “when we all get to heaven.” It seemed people slogged through this life and looked to a joyful existence after death. I have found in the Jewish faith that Jews look to life here as an opportunity to express joy.
I’ve learned that we can hold two emotions at the same time. Grief and joy. Fear and joy. There’s an ancient Talmudic story of a wedding procession and a funeral procession that meet and block each other’s path. The Jewish sages taught that life takes precedence over death and that the funeral procession should step aside and let the joyous wedding procession pass.
Yesterday, while scrolling through Instagram I ran across many supportive posts about the incident at Central Synagogue and the joy that was present in the service afterwards. However, there was a comment that questioned the joy and declared that it was not joy, but denial.
My answer to that comment is that no one denied anything, not the seriousness of the situation and not the fear it caused. The joy was genuine in spite of what happened.
Jewish joy is an act of resilience and an act of resistance.
“Joy is the ultimate medicine and remedy against fear” (Carlos Santana)
The Appalachian Jew 