Envision a community where hatred has no sanctuary
Sanctuary. What does that word mean to you? I’m guessing it probably means a place of calm, of beauty, of safety. For us Jews, the main prayer area in our synagogues is called the “sanctuary.” We may say, “We’re going to Temple for high holidays” or “Yes, I belong to a synagogue,” but when it comes to the actual place we pray and celebrate and mourn, it’s in “the sanctuary.”
Three years ago, on Nov. 3, 2008, my oldest son Noah had his Bar Mitzvah at Congregation Beth Am in Los Altos Hills. It was a significant and emotional day, recognizing Noah’s entry into Jewish adulthood. The service took place in the sanctuary. My child was reciting the Torah. There were songs and laughter. You could hear the birds outside. Then a fire alarm went off. I remember being worried — but not about a fire. A week earlier on a similarly beautiful Saturday morning in Pittsburgh, a man burst into the Tree of Life synagogue and murdered 11 people. Until they shut off the faulty sensor, I kept looking at the entrance to our sanctuary.
This past Saturday, my youngest son Abraham had his Bar Mitzvah at Congregation Beth Am. It was a small, socially distanced gathering, with fully vaccinated people celebrating this milestone in Abers’ life. Miraculously, my 96-year-old father Abraham was able to leave his nursing home for the first time in two years and celebrate with us. Seventy-seven years ago, he left the safety of his small Catskills village and waded on to the beach at Normandy. He was one of the 9th Infantry Division boys that liberated Dachau. Now, my dad needs help bathing, and he sat beside me in the sanctuary, propped against my shoulder. As the day went on, we learned that another man had burst into Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville, Texas, during prayer services and was holding four Jews as hostages. I held my dad’s hand and did not tell him.
I’m a prosecutor. For more than 27 years I’ve had the honor to represent the people of Santa Clara County. I’ve prosecuted hate crimes, taught law enforcement how to investigate hate crimes and worked with our community to let them know that in Santa Clara County, we don’t tolerate acts of hate. We won’t allow anyone to live in fear just because of who they are. These times feel different to me. We’ve seen the surge of anti-Asian hate crimes and have stood in solidarity with them. Things have never felt more personal to me than they do now. I am trying to focus on my family’s voices, the feel of my father’s hand. I try to envision a peaceful feeling of my living room and my neighborhood, my community, my country, my faith. Hatred has no sanctuary here.