Rabbi Eugene Borowitz, Ph.D., of HUC-JIR, wrote in his book, The Mask Jews Wear: The Self-Deceptions of American Jewry (1973), “The men (sic) of the Bible and the rabbis of Talmudic times asked why they were called to be prophets or why they had to suffer. They never demanded to know why they were Jews.” (p. 26). He raised this insight in a chapter he called, “The Rise of the Modern Marrano”. Writing in 1973, it was Borowitz’s contention that social times prompted Jews to fit in by hiding their Judaism to some degree, if not completely.

As Purim is celebrated this week and we struggle, again, with those who aim to destroy the Jewish people, the subject, which Borowitz raised in 1973 as his thesis, is, today, our reality. In the 1970s, when I was growing up in a largely non-Jewish suburb of Chicago, there were only traces of anti-Jewish (not antisemitic) sentiment. Our small suburban Reform synagogue was an oasis for us, but it needed no fence around its wide-open property and encountered no resentment from its neighbors. But, today, the decay of social norms and humanitarian advances have empowered antisemites and endangered Jewish lives, again.

Another difference between the 1970s and today is that, since October 7, 2023, the struggle for Jewish survival has led to an awakening of Jewish identity. Cynics have said that antisemitism is good for Jewish unity, but history has also shown that periods of Jewish persecution have led to waves of conversion from Judaism. It wasn’t only true about Spanish conversos in the 14^th and 15th century, but Borowitz’s chapter title surely alludes to it. Oddly enough, the cynics were right, as our present-day crisis in Jewish life has led to a surge in Jewish engagement.

Across the country, membership in congregations is steady or rising, conversion candidates are plentiful, and general engagement in synagogue life for education, worship, and community, is high. In times like these, sincere people are looking for enduring reasons to believe that their very lives have a purpose that’s related to the Divine. It’s as Rabbi Schachtel taught: “Faith enables us to differentiate between being small yet meaningfully related to the Divine.” To achieve that relationship, even if it takes a lifetime, begins with a religious outlook that welcomes one to search.

For increasing numbers of searching, lost, or marginalized people, Judaism, and, in particular, Reform Judaism, opens doors and lowers barriers to encounter the Divine in them. For Jews and non-Jews, this is a heady time and waiting even a day longer delays the opportunity for meaning to emerge. Removing the proverbial mask is the start of being seen and finding a place at the table, in the pews, and before God.

On Purim, when we don our masks, we cover up our identities to play parts in an age-old story. When the party is over and we take off our masks, we want to be ourselves in an inclusive Jewish setting, without qualification, and to continue our search for meaning.

Borowitz, of blessed memory, reminds us to ask, as our ancestors did, “Why do we suffer?” but not, “Why am I a Jew?” Like him, we know that our morning prayers include the words, “Praised are You, Eternal One, Ruler of the Universe, Who has made me a Jew.” How will we bear witness to our unique covenant so that we will endure as a people now and always?

L’Shalom,