I know what has been on the news during the last month. But did you know that, despite all that, six people in our congregation, who were not born as Jews, chose to be Jews? And another twenty or so households decided to become members of our congregation, not to mention all of you who decided to continue as members of the congregation.

It seems that the violence of last summer has not deterred those of us in this room from coming today.

Nor did it deter those who chose to become Jews from doing so.

I have not named them, nor will I, for it our tradition not to reveal this information lest someone prone to bias be induced to bias. It is none of our business who they are. They are just Jews in our congregation. If they choose to tell a friend who they are, then that is their right. But our only idea of them should be that they are just Jews like us.

You should know that when people come to me to study to become Jews, I refuse them, formally, three times, as has been the practice among our people for over a thousand years. Why do we rabbis refuse them? Because in the history of Christian Europe, it was, from time to time, a capital offense to become a Jew or to teach someone to become a Jew. Additionally, it was dangerous to live as a Jew. Those three dire facts generated three refusals, and only the most dedicated would continue to pursue Jewish peoplehood after this threefold refusal.

I have to say that even though I have presented this to those who wish to become Jews over the last quarter century, it has never deterred anyone. The threat was always too diffuse, too unreal, too "over there" in the mid-East, or in Europe, or in Latin America. It was not here.

Now, as the craziness of the Christian millennium approaches, the threat has come here. And still it did not deter these six people. Why?

This is some of what they said:

"I expressed the fearful thought to my husband after the violence this summer--about the time we set our date for the conversion that "wouldn't it be a strange coincidence if I were killed as a result of converting to Judaism?"

"As I studied Judaism, my concern was always whether I was ready or knowledgeable enough to accept the responsibility, the commitment to be Jewish. I have found such joy, such love and such warmth in the Jewish community. When I felt ready to accept the responsibilities, the privileges, the commitment to be Jewish, I knew nothing would deter me. We stand together. I truly felt as Ruth wrote that "wherever you shall go, I shall go, too." My devotion, love, heart and soul are with the Jewish people now and always."

"As I approach this milestone in my life, the time in which I will formally begin a new identity as a Jew, I also look to the world around me. I cannot help but wonder and the coincidence of the timing of my conversion with recent events of violence against Jews. I hear of fire-bombings at Sacramento synagogues. I see children fleeing a madman in Los Angeles. What wisdom am I to discern from these horrible events?

Through the headlines, G0d challenges me. Why choose to become part of a people that is the target of unspeakable hatred? Why subject my family and myself to potential violence, and likely prejudice? Why put myself in the position of a minority when in society's eyes I am part of the majority? Why not stay as I am, leaving an out if needed? There is still time.

I answer with a clear mind, in a strong voice: "I go forward because to do otherwise is to deny who I am. I am a Jew. I cannot run from this destiny."

I told the Jewish Bulletin two weeks ago that I would not talk on this issue at the High Holy Days. Instead, in the last edition of our congregational bulletin, Connections, for which we should all thank the hard work of Marc and Laura Ackerman-Shaw who put it out, I wrote this:

After a summer of anti-Jewish attacks so close to us, how are we to think about gathering together ever again? That is, obviously, a choice each of us will have to make. But consider: if we let the acts of a few who hate us determine our Jewish activity, then our enemies will have won. We will, at Etz Chayim, continue to meet for fun, for celebration, for community, and for spiritual re-energizing. We will also balance our need to have an open and welcoming atmosphere for all with an eye to security.

None can ever ensure that there will be a quick end to this spasm of violence, especially with the millennium looming, and its superstitious "millennialists" supported in their irrationality by the all-too-real concern for world-wide computer disruptions on New Year's Eve, which will also be a Shabbat Eve. . . . Still, if we become Marranos (crypto-Jews), we will have let our enemies determine the course of Judaism in the near term.

This year, then, the Rosh haShanah morning story of Avraham leading his son, Yitzhak, toward the top of the mount, about to sacrifice his son for his vision of G0d, has special meaning for us as we bring ourselves and our families to services. We who continue to be actively Jewish also do so warily. Perhaps no other year in American Jewish history so resonates to this story.

So, while sitting in the High Holy Day services, think: why am I doing this? What am I saying by voting with my body to be here? What can I tell my children, my Jewish friends, and my non-Jewish friends about my Jewish vision and commitment? What is the Jewish future I am trying to create with my actions, and how will my Jewish values and commitments lead to a better world?

I hoped that would be sufficient, but the many conversations I have had over the last weeks made me change my mind about speaking on this subject. And so I present this talk to you to show you what I have been hearing, and where I think we should go from here.

First--is there really a threat?

Actually, if the threat were imminent, such as if I knew there were a gang of armed Jew-haters surrounding this very building, threatening to do us harm, and that the police were not standing guard, not only would I not come and not let my family come, I would be forbidden to come by Jewish law. In Leviticus 18:5, we read, "Guard My laws and judgments by which a man shall live by them." The obvious meaning of this verse is that G0d's commandments are life-giving, both to us as individuals and as a society. But our ancestor-rabbis saw this as a prohibition against putting one's life in danger for the sake of performing a ritual. This is why we do not fast on Yom Kippur if there is any danger to life, or why we delay circumcision if there is any danger to life.

By coming here, we attest to the fact that we feel that American society is, mostly, benign, if not actively supportive. Certainly the city and local police have been these last few weeks. They have kept a heightened police presence here at the JCC, and around the other Jewish facilities in town, at the cost of overtime pay for their officers. The officer who is here today is here on overtime, for the city of Palo Alto has to attend to its other, standard, security needs as well. How unlike the rest of the world not too many years ago, when Jewish communities could not count on the police to be supportive of them. On the contrary. The local police often instigated anti-Jewish riots.

Similarly the local non-Jewish clergy. When there was a major gathering here in this hall on August 22 to take a stand against bigotry, the local churches and mosques came here to support us. This, again, is counter to the experiences our forebears endured in Christian Europe, and that our cousins endure today in the fanaticism fanned by some of the most vitriolic Muslim clerics.

But this is not then, nor is it there. This is America, here, today, in the most supportive non-Jewish country Jews have ever known.

But there is a real threat. Several people are dead due to this summer's attacks in LA and Chicago, and several more wounded, with the scars on their bodies and the scars in their minds. Several congregations bear the charred reminders of libraries and halls torched. Though the overall number of anti-Jewish attacks across the country has gone way down, says the Anti-Defamation League, nonetheless, the few spectacular ones have generated so much news coverage-much of it unnecessarily inflammatory, I believe-including interviewing the surviving attackers and threateners, and replaying the racist diatribes of the ones who killed themselves, that our fear has risen to a new level.

In short, the threat is real, and, partly because of the approaching Christian millennium, and partly because of the news media's overplaying of the events and the words of the perpetrators, the possibility of copycats rises.

Still we are here. And I decided to ask you what you thought about why your were coming. So I sent out an email request on Monday for responses, and received a ton of responses. I apologize for not being aware enough of what I wanted to talk about to have been able to ask the whole of the congregation by regular mail. For those of you who are not on our congregational email list, please email me with your address so I can reach you in these situations, too.

Here is an edited version what some of you said by email this past week about why you are here. I am sorry I could not use all of it, for all the responses were thoughtful, and they all informed my talk today.

First, the one piece of criticism I received:

I think you are over-reacting to what happened this summer. Yes, they are scary and do give us a cause to continue being alert...but I think the Rabbinate is using this to fuel a fire that doesn't need to be stoked to such an intensity.

On the other hand:

What a good question. I think this is an interesting moment, particularly since Jews in the US (or perhaps in certain parts of the US like the Bay Area) only know anti-Semitism in a very remote, quasi-historical way, as something that affected our great-grandparents in the remote, quaint shtetls.

And

Thanks for asking this question. It has been on my mind as of late with school opening and attending several Bar Mitzvahs.

And

Thank you for the invitation to express my thoughts.

Now, what did people say? First, they acknowledged the issue:

"Yes, everything that has happened is terrible, but how can we stop meeting together as Jews? If we stop, will not Judaism cease to exist? My sad feeling is that the terrorists have already won. We are scarred, we are spending money on security that could be better spent elsewhere, we are on the evening news with pictures of police cars patrolling Temples. In other words we have already changed our lifestyle because of them. How sad."

"Those of us who have grown up in an area outside the shelter of metropolitan California, particularly in the small town deep south, do not perceive the social tension in which we find ourselves today in California all that unusual. While the color of our skin did not immediately distinguish us from our neighbors, once our religious practices were known, xenophobia raised its ugly head. Clearly that is what we battle today. We are looked upon as outsiders. Lack of knowledge, and blatant misrepresentation is what has caused this crisis.

As a child, I was taught to make myself invisible in our community. The thought was "What they can't see won't hurt them." I fear, now, that was probably a poor strategy."

And

"What comes to mind is that I cannot, nor do I want to, stop being a woman as I cannot stop being a Jew. Every time I step out into the world as woman I am vulnerable; and every time I step out into the world as a Jewess I am vulnerable. These are both based on history. And, I hope in some small way, when I live in ways that celebrate being a woman I encourage other women to do the same. So too with being a Jew."

Some saw a difference in the way they could affirm things as adults versus the risk they were bringing to their children:

"My husband and I have spoken of this issue. He tells me that Jewish Law places life above keeping the rules of the Sabbath among other laws, so why would we go to services and risk our life the times being what they are today? I reply that if we allow others to prevent us from practicing our religion openly, then there is the risk that we cease to be Jews.

I chose to leave my three-year-old daughter with a sitter because she cannot understand the importance of attending service, nor the risk or reason for continuing to go to services this year."

"At Rosh haShanah services I thought about the story of Avraham and Yitzhak. Traditionally I've heard the story described as an example of Avraham's devotion to G0d-he would even sacrifice his son in obedience to G0d. I started thinking about it a different way.

It is one thing to commit oneself to something. It is another to commit our children and the rest of our descendants. It would have been legitimate for Avraham to say to G0d "I will do whatever you ask, but my son will have to make his own decision about whether to follow you." After all, this was the guy who argued with G0d about how many righteous people it takes to save a village. But instead, he was willing to place his son at risk and commit the generations that followed. He choose this path knowing the likely consequences.

We are not so different from Avraham. In choosing to raise our children as Jews we are taking the enormous step of placing them at risk in our commitment to a way of life and to our faith. We could make the choice for ourselves and leave them out of it. But knowing the possible consequences, we still choose this path."

And

"My daughter goes to pre-school at the JCC. I recently attended a meeting at which a Palo Alto police officer was present and we discussed security for about an hour. One person suggested that we should take down the JCC sign on Arastradero, and practically everyone in the meeting jumped up and said no! no! I think the feeling was clear that we should be vigilant and install deterrents to crazy people, but that we should never deny or hide our affiliation with Judaism."

Another set of responses measured the reality of the threat against the response of the community as a whole:

"I experienced something on an emotional level at this year's Rosh haShanah services. Seeing the police officer there to protect us made me feel affirmed that we lived in a country where protecting the minority is a fundamental tenet of our government and that this officer was there to protect me and my family (as well as others). In other words the recent show of force against Judaism was met with a show of force to protect us, something that I may have taken for granted.

In any event, much to my surprise, I felt the need to thank the officer for being there. I did, and he seemed to appreciate it. So despite the terribleness of the attacks and the continued risk, that reminded me how special it is to be Jewish in this country and while there may be some jerks around, there are far more people who are not."

"My personal feeling is that the percentage of people attacking is very small . . .. and if you are black or Latino or Asian or Filipino or almost any racial minority in this country and in most of the world . . . you cannot hide. My feeling is that as Jews we have a special responsibility to do everything we can to end violence and to teach tolerance and embrace diversity. We should do the simple things we need to protect ourselves, and we should bravely go into the world and do what we can to prevent violence to all the other minorities who have no choice but to appear as they are and be targets. . . We should stick our necks out even further and try to build as many bridges as possible with other communities. There is strength and protection only . . in joining hands with others; there is no protection in hiding.

I was raised . . . Reform, (and) a core value was transmitted to me and my siblings, through my parents, which was that as Jews we were required to make the world a better place. It seems to me that G0d requests of us that every minute of every day we ask ourselves whether we are making this world a better place; for we were put here to help create the world, to help "spread a Sukkah of peace" . . . Only if we are active in preventing violence and harm to all others, and active in shaping a better world, are we doing what is required of us."

Just as that last congregant, most of us affirmed that Jews need to stand up for the best in all of human values:

"When I was growing up in Highland Park, Illinois, a local Rabbi and a number of his congregants from Congregation Solel flew to Selma Alabama to support Martin Luther King & his people. It was a very dangerous thing to do, the police were not on the side of the good guys, and events could have turned into a tragedy. As a congregation, these people felt it was important to put their bodies in harm's way in order to support freedom for other people."

And

While I am VERY angry and somewhat scared and want to demand the freedom and safety we are supposed to have in America, I am not entirely surprised, because hate/persecution have always been there, whether as explicitly as recent events, or beneath the surface (i.e. discrimination). Part of being Jewish is rising above all of the hate and petty things and perpetuating purpose-mitzvot-to our family, friends, communities and other nations. Violence and hatred will not make me stop practicing, or gathering to practice Judaism.

Let me end with one last comment that speaks for itself:

I do not think I can answer your question very well,. However I know it was very important to me to be there this year. Just voting with my very small body was very meaningful. I have never missed Kol Nidrey, and just being there to here the familiar strains says something to my children and others. I cannot express this very well, but maybe actions speak louder than words.

That is the end of part one of this talk.

I apologize, but there needs to be a Part Two, because the threat is real, for as I write this, this past Thursday morning, I have heard that a man spewing anti-Baptist rhetoric burst into a church service for teen-agers and opened fire, killing seven people-three adults and four teen-agers, and wounding eight more-at the Wedgwood Baptist Church in Fort Worth Texas.

The pastor said the victims ''were Sunday school teachers and one of the favored soloists in the church, the children's choir director, kids, youth members, some active, some just getting active, some just beginning to find God. . . . It is my heart's desire that if the investigation gets cleared up, somehow, some way we can worship God in this facility Sunday morning," he said. "Our heart's desire is that the king of darkness will not prevail over the kingdom of light."

Yes. There is really a threat, and it is to us all. But we cannot counter that threat by making the entire country and all of our schools and places of work and worship armed fortresses. The only way to counter the threat is to disarm the country. There are just too damn many guns in this society, and, combined with all the other pressures that drive us to bigotry, mental illness, and desperation, the availability and glorification of guns make mass murder possible. I seldom use this pulpit to make political statements, but I will this morning.

Some say, "Guns don't kill people, people kill people." True enough, but guns make it possible for people to kill many people at a time. You cannot easily commit mass murder with a knife. You may not even get the courage to commit one murder if you have to do it close up with a knife. With a gun, it is easy to do it from a distance, to many people, no matter how weak or how afraid you are.

Some say, "If we have gun control, only criminals will have guns." That is, actually, untrue. The police will also have them. But nervous, inexperienced people, like you and me, will not end up shooting each other out of fear, nor leaving our guns around for our children to find and use on each other or on themselves, by accident, or on purpose. As many incidents as there have been with police, I still fear a police officer with a gun less than I would fear you.

When Lt. Torin Fischer was instructing congregational leaders on security issues for the High Holy Days, he answered this question: Did he think it would be better to hire an off-duty police officer or a security guard from a guard agency? He said that police officers have to qualify with their weapons at least four times a year. Security guards usually qualify only once a year. So your own guard is more likely to shoot you if he or she is not as fully trained as can be. Qal vaChomer (a Hebrew legal phrase that means, how much the more so) is someone who has no military or police training and does not even qualify with their gun ONCE a year likely to shoot the innocent?

Look, we are less likely to get shot if we do not fight for our money or our car than if we try to pull a gun out. And even if we try to pull the gun out, and actually hit the attacker, who is to say we will hit them mortally before they can fire a shot? And they may hit the one standing next to us, the one we love.

And when we are attacked from behind or from a car, a gun is no defense.

I do not disagree that in some cases, like where a rapist is coming after you with a knife, a well-trained person who could reach her gun and use it correctly might save her life. But I will only say what an Israeli friend of mine who lives in the West Bank said to me about driving home from Jerusalem each day. He said the most important thing you can have in an attack is a cell phone.

Some say, "We have plenty of gun control laws, but the ones we have are not being enforced. Don't make new ones until the ones we have are enforced."

I agree that we should enforce the laws we have. But that does not mean we should keep it legal for any yahoo off the street to buy a gun at a gun show without a waiting period, or that it is OK not to sell guns without trigger locks, or that guns bought before there were trigger locks should not now require them, or that someone should be allowed to own and operate a gun without training in its use and safe storage, nor that we should not appropriate public money to buy back as many guns as possible. We need many new laws, and to enforce them all.

We also need to mount the same kind of political pressure that Mothers Against Drunk Driving has applied to reduce the alcohol-related slaughter on our roads. Relentless, persistent, pervasive, political pressure. And we should press on until the Second Amendment to the Constitution has been repealed.

The Second Commandment forbids idolatry, but the Second Amendment makes gun-ownership into a form of idolatry. The Second Amendment enabled us to fight the British and the Indians by keeping weapons around so we could form militias. It was not designed to promote hunting-it was designed to make it possible to organize to kill people. The Second Amendment ensures private ownership of the most lethal weapons-assault guns with armor piercing ammunition, tanks, artillery, machine guns, rocket-launchers, and anti-personnel mines. Well, it is 200 years later and we don't need militias anymore. The only people talking of militas are Christian millennialist crazies who fear all hell breaking loose before the Rapture takes the few who are left to heaven.

We Jews are committed to societies based on law, not on might. More guns will not save the defenseless and the different. Laws, applied and enforced, with a community standing up for those who are oppressed, are our only hope. So let's repeal the Second Amendment now, and then get rid of all the guns we can.

I have made information sheets on how we can be involved in issues of gun control, tolerance and diversity education, reporting incidents of discrimination, and putting hate filters on our children's Internet access.

Let me sum up.

We cannot turn our country into an armed fortress. It will not work. And I refuse to divert money needed for other good causes to guards and forts.

I admire and applaud the determination of those who chose to become Jews despite the threat that hung over their heads this summer.

And I admire this congregation and its visions of open and identified Judaism leading the way to a better world.

I also apologize for the length of this talk,

for taking a political stand, and for taking too long to have made this stand.

Oseh shalom, bimromav, hu ya'aseh shalom aleynu!

May it be a year of peace,

in which the number of weapons owned and used begins to decrease.

v'al kol Yisrael, v'al kol yoshvey teivel,

for us, for all Israel, and for all the world,

v'imru:

And let us say,

Amen.