An Islamic Cornerstone

“The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” –Psalms 118:22

The most recent cover of Time magazine asks the question, “Is America Islamophobic?” I find it jarring that this is even a question. Islamophobia, particularly following 9/11 in our country, is alive and being actively overfed by hate-mongers to the point that a man recently stabbed a New York City cab driver after asking if he were Muslim, and shouted “‘Assalamu alaikum — consider this a checkpoint!’” This parody of state-sponsored violence is abominable. I wish I could rinse my hands of it and claim that Jewish organizations are innocent and that the radical fundamentalists were solely to blame for this. Sadly, the blood of the taxi driver is also on our hands.

We have seen Jewish organizations and individuals at the front lines of promoting Islamophobia and the current debate in New York City is nothing new. Just a few years ago, we saw similar Islamophobic actions when The David Project, a right-wing organization, targeted the construction of the only Mosque in Boston, running a hateful anti-Muslim and anti-Arab fear campaign. Fortunately, progressive Jews and allies in the area stood up to oppose The David Project and support Muslim communities. Around the same time in New York, the Khalil Gibran International Academy, New York City’s first school to focus on Arabic language and cultures, and its founding principal, Debbie Almontaser, became the target of hateful attacks, demanding Almontaser’s resignation. Again, progressive Jews and allies stood up in support of the school and of Almontaser.

Now, the same debate rages in our Jewish communities as we grapple with the questions of how much religious tolerance is too much tolerance. How close is too close for an Islamic Cultural Center to be to Ground Zero? The answer to both these questions: no such thing. Religious freedom is one of the founding values of this country and it is central to the vibrancy of Jewish communities. Jews have been kept out of neighborhoods, clubs, universities, political organizations, entire countries even! How can we turn around and do the same to our Islamic neighbors? How dare we even consider putting a limit on religious freedom? When the Anti-Defamation League betrayed their mission of ending bigotry and extremism by opposing religious freedom, I felt the misguided pain of their trauma.

I know many people are still in pain from the tragic events of 9/11, and rightfully so. None of us could have anticipated the lasting physical and emotional effects of an early September day, in the midst of Elul—the month of Jewish reflection we find ourselves in now. These effects are palpable, the loss of family and friends, jobs, physical, and mental health, all of these are still a reality for us living in the aftermath. We are far from complete healing.

How do we move forward towards supporting others when our pain is still so visceral and our sense of violation so raw? For this answer, I turn to the guiding wisdom of the individuals who founded Congregation Beit Simchat Torah, the LGBTQ synagogue I have the pleasure of serving.  I think about the pain of rejection from those who are supposed to be welcoming and the courage it took to found CBST. I think about working with that pain and reshaping it to a place of radical possibility and transformation. What would have happened if our neighbors had told us that having an LGBTQ synagogue had been unacceptable? What would have become of religious freedom in New York City?

I also think about Pslams 118:22. As a community of Jews who have been on the margins because of our gender, sexuality, race, disability, conversion—we know what it is like to be rejected by the builders. We know the pain of having our own community turn to us and say, “You do not belong.” We also know about taking that pain and transforming it into pride; about taking the stone the builders rejected and making it our cornerstone by building the fabulous, vibrant community we have today.

I implore the Jewish community and all of New York to do the same, by refusing to let a group of extremists represent an entire religion.  This Rosh Hashanah, take a moment of gratitude with me for the physical and spiritual space that we have to celebrate and remember that these spaces have not always been easy to find. Our Muslim friends and neighbors are depending on us to support their cornerstone. May our Jewish New Year be one that is not just a new beginning for the Jewish people, but one for religious freedom that actively opposes Islamophobia in our communities.