May 31st: Bechukotai
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
A few weeks ago, when Mayor (and member) Ezra Nanes declared Jewish American Heritage Month, I was asked to accept the proclamation and make a statement to the Borough Council. I chose to quote one of the most famous statements in American Jewish History, the letter from President George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation in Newport, Rhode Island. Upon his election in 1790, the Jews of Newport wrote to congratulate him, and he responded:
“The Citizens of the United States of America have a right to applaud themselves for having given to mankind examples of an enlarged and liberal policy: a policy worthy of imitation. All possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship. It is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people, that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights. For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.”
It is a wonderful and embracing statement, but the fact that he had to say it reminds us that the acceptance of Jews in this land has not always been a foregone conclusion.
Actually, all six of the Jewish communities in the new United States (in New York, Newport, Savannah, Charleston, Philadelphia, and Richmond) wrote letters to Washington—perhaps to curry favor with the new ruler, and each received a similar reply. There have been for us times of great acceptance, opportunity, and good fortune, and there have been times when our people’s safety and status have been under threat. Though we live in the land of freedom, we and others have not always enjoyed the “domestic Tranquility” and “Blessings of Liberty” that our Constitution seeks.
When Jews first arrived on these shores, their feelings were probably a combination of hope and desperation, and this hope in a context of anxiety can be seen in the names they gave their congregation. Three of the earliest congregations are named Mikveh Yisrael / O Hope of Israel, words that come from this week’s Haftarah portion. The Prophet Jeremiah (17.12-13) is exhorting our ancestors to trust in the blessings of the Lord: “O Throne of Glory, exalted from of old, Our Sacred Shrine! Mikveh Yisrael/O Hope of Israel! O Lord!”
These three Mikveh Israel’s are in Curacao, an island off Venezuela (founded 1674), Savannah, Georgia (founded 1733), and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (founded 1740). I do not know about the state of mind of these early Jews in Curacao and Philadelphia, but I served at Mickve Israel in Savannah and had the chance to learn about their less-than-enthusiastic reception. In 1733, General James Edward Oglethorpe received a charter from King George II to establish a colony that would be a frontier barrier to Spanish encroachment from their colony, La Florida. Backed by officers and men conditionally released from debtors’ prison, Oglethorpe set out to establish a utopia. His plan was to ban certain problems, among them slavery, lawyers, and Jews. However, six months after he landed, a boatload of Jews from England arrived and sought residency. Oglethorpe was adamantly opposed to their presence, but he was occupied with a crisis. A swamp fever was decimating his colony, and the only doctor had died from the illness. When he found out that one of the Jews was a physician, a Dr. Samuel Nunes, Oglethorpe said that he could disembark. Nunes countered that he would only help out if all the Jews on board would be allowed admission. The General relented, and the Jewish settlers named their congregation for the tenuous hope they felt at the possibilities in the new land. For many, the hopes were fulfilled, but for others danger lurked just down the coast. Though the original group had both Ashkenazim and Sephardim, the Sephardim departed after a few years. One theory is that they feared the encroaching Spanish (and Inquisition!) from La Florida. Again, safety in America was not always a foregone conclusion.
The first Jewish residents of New York—then New Amsterdam—also had a less than open-armed reception. Though the group that arrived in 1654 was originally European Sephardic, their voyage to New Amsterdam was from Recife, Brazil. Originally a Portuguese colony—where the Inquisition made it very dangerous for Jews, Recife had been conquered by the Netherlands in 1630 and was run by the Dutch West India Company. Given that Holland and the Company were very friendly to Jews, a group of Jews from Amsterdam settled there. However, in 1654, the Portuguese recaptured Recife, and the Jews knew better than to wait for the Inquisition. Seeking another Dutch colony, they sailed for New Amsterdam. However, the governor of the colony, Peter Stuyvesant, was anti-Semitic and did not want the Jews. After entreaties to the Dutch West India Company in Amsterdam—and its many Jewish investors, Stuyvesant received firm directives to allow the Jews to settle, and they did. Still, he would not let them stand guard on duty on the Wall (the future Wall Street) because he did not consider them trustworthy.
Twice exiled (from Iberia in the 1400s and Recife in 1654), these Jews felt like a very small remnant of Judaism’s former glory, and they named their congregation Shearith Yisrael, a remnant of Israel, as a reflection of their tenuous situation. They prayed that they would survive and keep Judaism alive in this very far off place.
The founders of the second oldest Jewish congregation in the United States were perhaps a bit more hopeful. When the first Jews of Newport, Rhode Island established their synagogue—now known as the Touro Synagogue, they named it Yeshu’at Yisrael, the Salvation of Israel. It was 1658, and this outpost of Jewishness was at the edge of the world. Hopefully, this place would bring us good things.
In large measure, our hope in this new land has been rewarded. Our faith and institutions are strong. Our people have been free to work hard and aspire to the American Dream. And we have been a constructive part of the American process, contributing in every possible way to America’s building and improvement. We are part of the American fabric, and yet still we wonder and worry. There is much to treasure, and there is much to protect.
Hopefully, we too can find inspiration in God’s Presence—Mikveh Yisrael—and keep alive the religious spirit that filled our ancestors. God can be with us—if we only open our hearts and minds and allow the proximity of God. As Jeremiah also says (in this week’s Haftarah), “Blessed is one who trusts in the Lord, whose trust and faith is in God. It is like a tree planted by waters, sending forth its roots by a stream; It does not sense the coming of heat, its leaves are ever fresh; it has no care in a year of drought, It does not cease