Kansas City rabbis feel the impact of the war between Israel and Hamas on their local population

The murderous attack by Hamas terrorists on Israel on October 7 last year, the war that followed and the resurgence of anti-Semitism have profoundly affected the lives of Jews and their rabbis in the Kansas City area.

Rabbi Stephanie Kramer of Congregation B’nai Jehudah puts it this way: “Since October 7, everything has really changed. When it comes to prayers, services, programs and pastoral care, the issue is at the forefront of our minds.”

Jonathan Rudnik, the community rabbi of Jewish Family Services, adds: “October 7 and everything that has happened since then has changed everything. For every single Jew I know, it is a nightmare. It is a daily, even hourly trauma.”

And Rabbi Doug Alpert of Congregation Kol Ami says that “something (related to the war) happens practically every day. And if no one comes to me personally one day, then I read the next article or series of articles.”

As I wrote recently in this Flatland column, clergy are often among the people who act as first responders, showing up at emergencies along with police officers, firefighters, doctors, paramedics and others to assess people’s needs and help them cope with various types of trauma.

Like many Jews around the world, Jews in Kansas City felt that the Hamas attack was directed against them.

Much has changed since that day, of course, because Israel, for its part, has used its military to crush Hamas in Gaza. This has complicated things there and abroad in a way that affects not only the Jewish population. The result is that priests, imams, pastors and other clergy have also been called upon to respond in some way.

But it is the rabbis of Kansas City who are still feeling and responding to the effects of the initial shock and the frightening resurgence of anti-Semitism that has since begun.

For example, Rabbi Mark Levin, the now retired founding rabbi of Congregation Beth Torah, says that because of the war between Hamas and Israel, “the narrative of Israel as the protector of the Jewish people, as David against Goliath, as the nation of the little locomotive that made it through the Six-Day War and Entebbe, has completely disappeared. Not even the Jews know the narrative, the story of Israel’s origins, anymore. This is a tragedy, and that is why people are confused. And the increasing anti-Semitism is making people afraid, very afraid.”

In fact, since the beginning of the war, the staff of the Midwest Center for Holocaust Education have been given far more lectures on anti-Semitism and the fight against this phenomenon than programs on the history of the Holocaust.

Rabbi Kramer has noticed the same phenomenon in her synagogue: “We double and triple teach anti-Semitism and how to combat it, and we teach Israeli history and Middle Eastern history and all these different parts,” in addition to the basics of Judaism.

The reality of the resurgence of anti-Semitism prompted Michael Zedek, former chief rabbi of Congregation B’nai Jehudah and current rabbi of St. Paul School of Theology, to recently tell a meeting of faculty, staff and students of that seminary a story that he said “offers the only way out of the mess that is destroying hope for any kind of peace in this part of the world. When (Egyptian President Anwar) Sadat made his unprecedented flight from Cairo to Jerusalem in 1977, (former Israeli Prime Minister) Golda Meier was among the dignitaries who met him at the airport. She is reported to have asked him, ‘Why did you decide to come?’ He replied, ‘I decided to love my children more than I hate yours.'”

“That,” says Zedek, “has been my guide through this terrible chaos, because there will be no change until this becomes the heart of all fighters.”

In contrast, there is one rabbi who has an encouraging story to tell in the midst of all this: Jacques Cukierkorn of Temple Israel of Greater Kansas City. He says he recently received a surprise call from a man he did not know who said, “Hello, Rabbi. I’m just calling to say we love and support you.”

But Cukierkorn also described how another man “called me and said, ‘Do you have guns? Are you good at shooting?’ I wondered if this was a guy who wanted to know if he could come to my synagogue and shoot people, or a guy who wanted to offer help. He said, ‘I want to help. I could teach you how to shoot. I’d be happy to take you to a shooting range.’ I quickly replied, ‘No, no. We’re OK.'” And ended the conversation.

The recent protests on various university campuses have attracted a great deal of attention from Jews in the region and thus also from their rabbis.

“This is on everyone’s mind,” says Rabbi Kramer. “People are outraged, angry and disappointed with the biased media. I am absolutely convinced that this is influencing people’s decisions about which school their children will go to next year.”

It should come as no surprise that there is disagreement among Jews in the region on all these issues.

Alpert noted: “One sad aspect is how much it has divided people within the Jewish community. There are some who are on Israel’s side because after the Hamas attack on October 7, any countermeasure is justified until Hamas is wiped out – even though I think that’s an impossible task. And if you believe Hamas could be wiped out, is (Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin) Netanyahu the one you want to win your war?”

One of the inevitable questions for all clergy is who will mentor them. For Rudnick, this is a pressing problem because his regular work as a rabbi is complicated not only by the war between Hamas and Israel, but also by a serious illness in his family.

He says that in addition to the biblical notion that his help comes from God, he also relies on individual therapy, a weekly Alanon meeting, a weekly online meeting of other clergy who support each other, and the support of a counseling group he belongs to.

“I don’t know how I function on a daily basis,” he says, “but these four pillars are part of it.”

There is no international news that does not reach local audiences. Kansas City’s Jewish community and its rabbis are among those with Middle Eastern ties (along with Arabs, Muslims, Palestinians and others from the region) who have been drawn into this despicable war. They are trying to process it, but it has profoundly complicated their lives and work.

Bill Tammeus, an award-winning columnist who formerly worked at the Kansas City Star, writes:Faith is important” Blog for The Star website, book reviews for The National Catholic Reporter and for The Presbyterian Outlook. His latest book is “Love, Loss and Endurance: A 9/11 Story of Resilience and Hope in an Age of Anxiety.” Email him at [email protected].