After October 7^th, I wrote about the fence that my Muslim neighbor and I had to fix between our houses when it broke and fell in a windstorm. It was an apt metaphor for the obvious brokenness and horror between Israel and Gaza. In a personal face-to-face conversation, we concluded that the answer would begin by seeing the humanity in other people. We still struggle with the trauma we see and feel in the Middle East, but we don’t struggle with each other, and you shouldn’t struggle with your neighbor, either.

Across fences or across the street, most of us come and go with little notice during the day and night. A wave between neighbors is sometimes all we have between us. But what if we share the same front door that leads to a common lobby, and what if we travel up and down a shared elevator to our respective homes? And what if the holidays include a decorated Christmas tree in the lobby next to a blue and white Chanukah Menorah? Up until now, I’ve never heard anyone complain about the decorations that enable everyone who lives in their vertical neighborhood to feel at home. But in these darkest months on the calendar and around the world where wars are being waged and historical hatred and antisemitic tropes aren’t just rising, they’re permeating the air we breathe, what can we expect from neighbors and ourselves in our vertical neighborhoods?

Don’t hide. Deborah Lipstadt would say that that’s just what antisemites want us to do; to feel less than, to feel other than. In a talk at Beth Israel, she said, “We’re ‘despite-it-all-Jews; we’re ‘even-so-Jews’,” because no matter what, we thrive on the truth and wisdom that is Judaism and Jewish life.

Honor the neighborhood. Antisemitism or what Listpadt calls, today, “Jew-hatred,” has no place where you live, beginning at the front door and continuing in shared spaces, including the elevator. As we learned as children, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all,” but Jews are not taught to “turn the other cheek” (Christian Bible). We’re taught, “Justice, justice shall you pursue” (Torah, Deuteronomy 16:20). If a neighbor pursues you to hurt or offend you, then you have the right to defend yourself even under Jewish law. And you always have the right to submit a complaint to the condo board, to the ADL, or to the police, if it’s necessary. 

Teach Torah. Be a role model and a leader in your vertical neighborhood. Does the condo welcome homeowners to gather around the Menorah to honor the holiday, like they do around the Christmas tree? When you light the Menorah’s candles, teach the story of Chanukah and the heroism of Judah Maccabee. Then sing a Chanukah song and serve some latkes and jelly doughnuts (because they’re fried in oil like the miracle of oil story in the Talmud). And in your holiday email to your vertical neighbors, wish them well in a world free from terrorism, because Hamas is everyone’s enemy, and Israel can be everyone’s neighbor, even 7000 miles away. Under your signature, include this helpful link to www.honestreporting.com.

Your vertical neighborhood has one advantage over my horizontal one. You and your neighbors share a common door and lobby. It’s time to use it for goodwill and understanding between you. At this season of lights, holiness, and hope, we also learn from Talmud, “Ma’alin bakodesh, v’lo moridin,” Increase holiness; do not diminish it. It’s the reason we add lights each night to the Menorah, and it’s why, when given the opportunity, we increase learning and understanding to illuminate the darkness.

L’Shalom,