Shocking title, right? I don’t usually write 3 blog posts in three days. But this is important. And it is not a joke, but the beginning sounds like it. So many jokes start, “A rabbi, a priest and a minister walk into a bar.”

What happens if they all show up 4^th of July Weekend? A little bit of hope. Not a joke.

Let me set the stage. On July 3^rd, just after writing a post about Elie Wiesel and his legacy for Elgin. (Footnote: Did you know he actually spoke at my synagogue? Long before I was here!) I was called because a Nazi flag had appeared in Kane County. “Do something” the caller urged. So I did. I contacted the business by email and requested, firmly and calmly the removal of the flag. It was. Maybe that should be the end of the story.

But actually it is the beginning. And it is what makes Elgin great. A Lutheran pastor wrote an impassioned letter. An Episcopal priest showed up at my house and held my hand while we painstakingly researched white supremacists in Kane County. A Catholic chaplain wasted no time and called his contact at the landlord of the business and reported back that the landlord was aghast. The Muslim leader who spoke at our recent vigil for the victims of Orlando sent a simple note, “Repression, Suppression and  Oppression can’t be tolerated. May God give guidance to those who are misguided.” A Brethren pastor showed up with raspberry pie and the message delivered with tears in her eyes, that she would lay down her life to protect me and my congregants.

And lest you think this was just the religious leaders of Elgin, it was not. Our Resident Police officer told me when he saw me at the parade that he was already aware and had stepped up patrols. Our mayor and his wife, seeing it on Facebook and having been called by others, contacted me. Our elected officials, and their staff workers, all reached out.

Keep in mind, this was in a very short time period, less than 24 hours, over a holiday weekend, filled with parades, picnics, barbecues, fireworks, family time. Celebrating this great nation. No one needed to do so because it was in their job description. They did it because it is the right thing to do. And each one had an important role to play.

The flag is down. And thanks for the business establishment for doing the right thing. Quickly and expediently. That’s a good thing. I don’t want to dwell on the flag. I don’t want to create other repercussions or copycats.

Instead, I want to focus on the positive. That in less than a day, we handled a situation that could have been much worse. That people are basically good at heart. They understand the ramificaitons and rise to the occasion.

That a synagogue can walk in the Elgin Fourth of July parade and not worry about safety. Together with a Lao temple, a Hispanic horse troupe, a Unitarian Church, the Boy Scouts, the YWCA, the Boys and Girls Club, high school marching bands. The Democrats and the Republicans running for office. The Fox Valley Citizens for Peace and Justice. 12,000 in the parade. 12,000 watching. As diverse a crowd as you can imagine, reflecting the diversity of Elgin and what is great about this nation.

I wish the story ends there.

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t quite end there either. There is much work still to be done, as a quick glance at Facebook and social media will tell you. This flag was not just as was suggested war memorabilia being sold but something more sinister if you scratched the surface.

We need to continue building bridges. To continue to combat hate. Wherever it is. Be it social media or the news media. Or the political climate. We need to speak out wherever there is hate speech. Whether it is a political candidate or from a local business. Whether it is against Jews, Muslims, Blacks, Hispanics, the LGBTQ community. We need to conquer fear with love. Fear with hope. This is the legacy of Elie Wiesel. He said,

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.”

This quick response, of my religious leaders and officials, by the community of Elgin, is precisely the story that needs to be told. It offers us hope, not fear. This is precisely what makes Elgin great. And why Elgin is a model for the rest of the country.

Here is a string. Please tie it on your finger. You are supposed to remember something. What? What is it that tying a string on your finger is supposed to help you remember? To pick up the milk on the way home from work? Does it work? No, this is not the Alzheimer’s sermon.

Today we read a portion that includes a passage we know well. It includes the third paragraph of the V’ahavta. “The Lord said to Moses, Speak to the children of Israel and say to them, “Make for yourselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages, with a string of blue on each corner. This will be your fringe. Look upon it and remember all the commandments of the Lord and observe them….thus you shall be remaindered to observe all My commandments and to be holy to your G-d. I, the Lord, am your G-d who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your G-d. I, the Lord am your G-d.” (Numbers 15:3-41)

It is important to remember. What is it that we are remembering? There are two ways (at least) of tying tzitzit, the original Jewish macramé. The first is designed to remind us of the letters Yud-Hay-Vuv-Hay, 10, 5, 6, 10, the numbers of each of the letters of the Name of G-d. Look upon the fringes and remember G-d. The second provides twists and turns and knots to remind us of the 613 commandments in the Torah.

So we are remembering G-d and to observe G-d’s commandments.

This weekend we are remembering something else as well. We are remembering that this is a good land. The beginning of this week’s portion is about the 12 spies who went into the land of Canaan. Twelve scouts. They scouted out the land. Ten came back and said that it couldn’t be done. That although the land flows with milk and honey, the people are like giants and the Israelites appear as grasshoppers.

Only two, Joshua and Caleb thought it was possible. The remainder of the tribes continue to rebel and Moses has to intercede on their behalf, using the words of the 13 Attributes to remind G-d to be a forgiving G-d. And G-d says, “I have forgiven you according to your word.” The very same words we hear as the answer to Kol Nidre. But that is a sermon for another year.

So the land is a good land. Flowing with milk and honey. Other natural resources. Not unlike Governor William Bradford’s report about Plimouth Plantation. Let’s review. This great land we live in is a good land too, one flowing with milk and honey and lots of natural resources. One where the Puritans wanted to serve G-d in their own way, to be a light to the nations and a light on the hill. Where Bradford himself learned to read Hebrew so that he could speak to G-d in the language the world was created in.

But the Puritans were not always so good on pluralism, or diversity. And so their own children founded the town of Duxbury and wrote a halfway covenant since they did not have the same zeal or understanding of G-d. The Puritans kicked out Anne Hutchinson and Roger Williams. Jews were far less prominent although the first Jews arrived in the early 1620s in Massachusetts Bay Colony and in 1653 in New Amsterdam.

Nonetheless, by the War of Independence there were some prominent Jews. Hayyim Solomon. Aaron Lopez. Rebecca Gratz among them. There were Jewish congregations in New York, Philadelphia, Charleston, Richmond, Savanah, Boston and Newport, RI.

Jews have prayed on behalf of their secular leaders and governments since Jeremiah’s day. As an American Studies major with a concentration on colonial American History, I have loved the prayer that was written by the Jews of Richmond for George Washington, shortly after he began his presidency. It is elegant, with Washington spelled out in Hebrew acrostic. http://opensiddur.org/prayers-for/collective-welfare/government/prayer-for-george-washington-first-president-of-the-united-states-of-america-by-kahal-kadosh-beit-shalome-1789/

It is not that different than the prayer we will do for our current government in our siddur, Siddur Sim Shalom.

But today, I really want to look at two letters. One from the “sexton” of the congregation in Newport RI, http://www.tourosynagogue.org/history-learning/tsf-intro-menu/slom-scholarship/85-seixas-letter

Inviting Washington to visit when he was coming to Newport. Note the language, “to bigotry no sanction.”

George Washington did in fact visit and sent a letter of thanks and appreciation. http://www.tourosynagogue.org/history-learning/tsf-intro-menu/slom-scholarship/86-washington-letter

Again, we see the language, “to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance.”

This exchange is the basis of the First Amendment. The guarantee that all who live in this land, this good land, freedom of religion. It is carved into the US Holocaust Museum and recently photographed by our own state representative Anna Moeller.

And while this country we live in, the United States of America, is indeed a good land. One where we are guaranteed freedom of religion, it is not something we can take for granted. It is something we need to remain vigilant about. Something we need to remember. So look at your fingers again and that string that is tied to them.

This portion begs us to remember something else. We are to remember that we were slaves in the land of Egypt. We were strangers. We are never to forget that we were marginalized and so should never marginalize others. This portion begs us to have only one set of laws—much like Washington is saying—for the citizens and for the strangers. One equal law. Period. And G-d is serious about this. Because G-d repeats it twice.

In fact, 36 times the Torah tells us that we need to take care of the widow, the orphan and the stranger. I have used this line so often, I get tired of repeating it. Apparently, however, it is difficult to do and that is why the Torah itself repeats it so many times. So repeat I will.

There is one more thing about threads. In the haftarah, the prophetic portion, two scouts, Joshua and Caleb, go spy in Jericho. They are the strangers. And they are rescued by Rahab who is described as a prostitute, an unlikely helper. Recently I reminded the people gathered at the vigil the quote from Mr. Rogers, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

Since she was a helper, Joshua and Caleb had her tie a red cord on her window so that her family would be spared and could be rescued when the Israelites stormed Jericho.

This is what we are commanded to remember. We must remember that we were strangers in the land of Egypt. That there must be one law for Israelites and strangers amongst us. That helpers come from unlikely sources. That we must remember that this is a good land, one flowing with milk and honey. That we need to protect George Washington’s mandate, “to bigotry no sanction; to persecution, no assistance.” And if, we observe the commandments and remember G-d, then we, and our children, and our children’s children, will continue to enjoy a good life on this great land. Look again at your string. Now we know what to remember.

Last year I was asked to speak to a class of high school students at Elgin High School. They were all immigrants. They had graduated from ESL and were reading their first book. In any language. Not Cat in the Hat. Not Pat the Bunny. Not Goodnight Moon. Not Dick and Jane. Not Harry Potter. These young adults were reading Night. It was my job to provide some cultural context.

None of them had met a Jew. None of them had been in a synagogue. In preparation I reread the book. I had taught it decades ago to an 8^th grade post-Bar Mitzvah class. I had read it myself in middle school.

Others have said this before. It is a powerful book. When others wanted to forget, Wiesel gave voice to the voiceless. When people wanted to deny the Holocaust ever happened, Wiesel made that impossible with his first hand account. When others wanted to whitewash the experience, Wiesel’s haunting description and simple language made it real.

When I wrote my review for Goodreads, I said, “I struggled with how many stars to give this slim, little book. It is the first Holocaust book I ever read. It is the one that I have taught to countless students and am teaching again this week. It is the most vivid. Most graphic. Most gruesome. And the most powerful. It has produced nightmares. And the most important. LIKE it. No. ENJOY it. No. Nonetheless, I am grateful that Eli Wiesel had the strength to write it.”

Together with Anne Frank, Simon Wiesenthal, and Victor Frankel, Wiesel made us confront the most difficult history and ask the most difficult questions. How can I possibly believe that people are basically good at heart? Why did the Holocaust happen? What meaning does life have? Should we forgive? Can I forgive? Where was G-d?

I was fortunate as an undergraduate leader at Tufts to attend a series of lectures at Boston University with Wiesel about diversity. One night we had dinner with Wiesel before his class. His dialogue sparkled. His eyes crinkled with laughter. I spent the evening watching him carefully. I wondered how a man who had been through so much could find any joy. How could anyone take pleasure in eating, in opening the door for someone else, in telling stories and jokes, in doing normal things? How did he find the courage to find his voice? I kept watching him for clues. I strained to hear every word. He spoke softly and his accent made it even more difficult to understand. I am not sure I do, still.

The students in the Elgin High School class were attentive, appreciative. What they lacked in cultural competence they understood with their own life experience. They understood each of the questions the book raised. Even as they didn’t have answers of their own.

Yet, they were puzzled. They, whose parents made a different difficult decision, couldn’t understand why Wiesel’s family didn’t leave. Why did they stay in what was at that moment Hungary? Why didn’t they escape? And they had heard the recent news. They asked other questions, ones I hadn’t anticipated and were not prepared to answer. They wanted to know whether Trump was really going to build a wall and deport all Mexicans. They could see the connections. They were looking to me for reassurance that what happened to Wiesel and his family was not going to happen to theirs.

We owe it to the memory of Wiesel and to the memories of the 6 million Jews, the memories of 13 million people that were systematically and methodically murdered that it never does. Not here in Elgin. Not here in America. Not anywhere. Never again. That is Wiesel’s legacy for all of us.