“What’s it like?” my friends asked after I returned home. “Did you experience antisemitism?”
This was the tone and actual verbiage of some of the questions I received following my recent trip throughout the US and Germany. In the midst of a war in Israel, friends and colleagues who knew about my unique work with Christians wanted to know my firsthand report, as if I had just escaped from Auschwitz and needed to witness to the world.
In these conversations, colleagues who commute to the “old country” and work with Jewish organizations would recount their experiences of antisemitism, directly and indirectly. Many men took to wearing baseball caps over their kippot in order not to look overtly Jewish. “Did you wear your kippah?” my friends asked.
The truth shocked them. Indeed, I traveled through Germany and the US without removing my kippah, and I did not experience even a moment of antisemitism. In fact, it was the opposite.
I did expect to have some unpleasant encounters and played out different scenarios in my mind to be ready in case of a verbal, or even physical, assault. I visited nine states, drove 2,400 miles, took seven flights, and spent half a day in Germany.
Not only did I not take off my kippah and not experience antisemitism, but in fact my kippah became a lightning rod for visceral expressions of support for Israel and the Jewish people. The primary reason for this was that everywhere I went, my aim was to engage and build bridges with Christians who love and support Israel and the Jewish people, doing so under the auspices of the Genesis 123 Foundation (www.genesis123.co). I went to participate in the delayed book launch and media tour for the new book Israel the Miracle (www.IsraeltheMiracle.com), which came out just before the war.
With a son and a son-in-law called up on Oct. 7, this was my first opportunity to go overseas to promote Israel the Miracle, a compilation of 75 essays by Christian leaders around the world who explained why Israel is so significant to them and to all Christians. As a result of the war, many of their words seemed almost prophetic and are now much more relevant.
While my previous visit to Germany, my first, was one that left me feeling inspired – unusual for an Ashkenazi Jew whose family members were murdered in the Holocaust – this time I was not under the umbrella, or in the bubble, of being among Christian friends and thus a little more uneasy. While Germany leads the nations in taking responsibility and making reparations for the Holocaust, in recent years it has mistakenly imported antisemitism, along with some one million Arab and Muslim immigrants.
Not only was Germany not a problem, but I engaged with many Arab staff at my hotel, all of whom were polite and respectful. I also met Bob – my first new friend on this trip – while waiting to board the plane to the US. Because I was identifiable as a Jew, Bob made a point of telling me that millions of Christians like him supported Israel. That he didn’t even know I was from Israel made this all the more remarkable, since he simply associated me with Israel and needed to let me know that he and millions of others cared. They not only care, but they also know the truth about Israel, the war against Hamas, and the broader threat from our neighbors. We spoke more on the plane and while waiting for our luggage.
Always meaningful
Arriving in Atlanta, Georgia, my first stop was an interview on WATC, Atlanta’s regional Christian TV station, where I have appeared in the past and have good friends. When traveling, rather than staying as a guest in the Jewish community for Shabbat, I typically do Shabbat in my hotel, inviting Christian friends for Shabbat meals that I prepare. It’s an opportunity not just to visit with old friends and make new friends, as I would do in my own home, but also to share about how and why Orthodox Jews observe Shabbat. This is always meaningful. Invariably, no matter where I am, I manage to whip up lovely Shabbat meals and experiences that I truly enjoy and that I might not have anywhere else as a guest at a stranger’s home in a community where I know no one. This visit was my longest trip away from home in 20 years, and it gave me the opportunity to host and engage with dozens of friends over four Shabbatot.
One of the main reasons for this trip at this time was to participate in the National Religious Broadcasters (NRB) convention in Nashville, Tennessee. I have been going to the NRB convention for 15 years, long before it became so much more common, even in vogue, for Jews to attend. The NRB convention has become more like a reunion with many friends. So much so that my four days there were filled up long before my arrival, visiting with many friends but missing many others as well among the 4,000-plus participants.
Not only did I not get a single odd look or antisemitic comment, even when wearing my IDF jacket throughout the convention center, but the bright Israeli flag on the sleeve became a magnet for others to greet me, ask about how things were in Israel (sincerely, not superficially), and express their solidarity, love, and support. And to ask me what’s really happening so they could pray for Israel.
As my main reason for being at the NRB was to promote Israel the Miracle, I had multiple TV and radio interviews scheduled in advance. Others approached me after seeing me in front of a camera or microphone with the Israeli flag on my shoulder, and I ended up receiving several more invitations for interviews.
While interest in the book was genuine, most of the interviewers also focused on what was going on in Israel, asking me to share my insights and personal experiences, especially with my son and my son-in-law in the army, along with other observations.
Much of the trip involved speaking in churches, often those that had participated in the Genesis 123 Israel Emergency Campaign. It’s not just my responsibility but also my pleasure to share what we have been able to do to make the biggest impact with the greatest integrity through their support. The caring is real and deep. In some communities, I heard one particular theme repeated over and over again: If they could, they would come to Israel and join the IDF to fight for Israel. This was sincere, not rhetoric.
Driving from Atlanta to Nashville and then to northern Indiana, I stopped off to visit a friend from social media. The truth is that her location was the perfect place for me to take a break from my longest day of driving. She’s an older Christian woman whom I had never met. Because I was coming to town, she canceled a medical appointment and bought me a cake, treating me like an honored guest. Before I reached my next stop, she had already posted a photo of us on social media, honored that I, her Orthodox Jewish Israeli friend, had stopped by to visit. Her friends were also impressed. I don’t make any pretenses about myself being a great person; I’m merely passionate about what I do. But it touched me that this one visit meant so much to these people and truly symbolized how so many others whom I met along the way had felt.
Arriving in Michigan on election day
I arrived in Michigan on the state’s primary election day. The protest vote from Michigan’s Muslim and Arab communities against President Biden’s support for Israel was the topic of conversation locally and throughout the national media. Before continuing on to Ohio for another TV interview, I had two engagements in Michigan that caused me a little trepidation.
I was invited to speak at Hillsdale College. Given the current wave of anti-Israel and pro-Hamas protests sweeping American campuses, I anticipated encountering some degree of hostility during the promotion of my speaking event on campus. However, I learned that Hillsdale is a solidly conservative college that takes no federal funds, so it is not beholden to policies that would compromise its educational vision or integrity. Statues across campus speak to its early history of admitting Blacks and women a century ago, years before that was widespread, even with quotas, and long before this issue would become a pillar of liberalism.
I was prepared for heckling, but my speech was met with warmth, genuine interest, and thoughtful questions – not a single word of protest or display of antisemitism. Many of the students stayed afterward to speak with me personally, amplifying the general support for Israel, thanking me for coming, and expressing a desire to stay in touch. I had been prepared to experience some of America’s new-famed antisemitism but instead received a warm embrace.
A fantastic experience
Because Ann Arbor is home to the University of Michigan, an institution that has become a magnet for anti-Israel protests and even hostility, I expected to encounter some negativity in this town, which is defined by the university. Expecting the worst while looking for something kosher to eat – although I had no reason to step foot on campus, as it was spring break – I nonetheless kept the kippah on my head. I did decide, however, that north of the Mason-Dixon line I would not wear my olive-green army jacket with the Israeli flag patch, assuming that there would be more risk of an antisemitic attack and possibly an assault.
However, Ann Arbor became a fantastic experience, including a live interview by one of America’s preeminent Catholic radio hosts, Al Kresta. His interest in Israel, Judaism, and Israel the Miracle was profound, and it was broadcast to millions. It’s also reaffirming to see in action what I have felt and heard among Catholics: The average Catholic is very supportive of Israel, although the upper echelons of the church are less so. Using Kresta as an example, his interest was genuine, and he would not have hosted me on his program, much less invited me back, if it hadn’t been.
Throughout Texas, which I refer to as “the other lone star state,” I also experienced tremendous warmth, support, and interest, much of it during my planned meetings. But much of it was also spontaneous – simply because I was identifiable as a Jew. A friend introduced me to the pastor at the Uncommon Church, who became a new friend. Yet I already knew I was among friends long before arriving at the church. Immediately after Oct. 7, Pastor Brad had a 10-meter Israeli flag made, which he said would wave high above the church as long as a single hostage remains in Gaza. That support for Israel can be seen for miles.
In general, these Americans wanted to know what was going on in Israel from someone with firsthand experience. Since I have written dozens of articles and participated in dozens more briefings and interviews since the beginning of the war, there was scarcely a topic raised that I had not already addressed in some format. Nevertheless, it was shocking that even among those who support Israel as much as they do, their awareness of what has been happening here is severely limited by their US news sources, which, at best, try to depict the war against Hamas in some balanced way with over-the-top moral equivalence.
I was not alone in struggling to comprehend the extent of the massacre on Oct. 7, in the days afterward, and what the ramifications would be. Initially, I believed that I could have continued with the original plans for my Israel the Miracle book tour. I was wrong. I couldn’t have left in November, not with a son and a son-in-law called up on Oct. 7, and not with my country and people in shock and grief. But I didn’t know that on October 8, 9, 10, and even a week later, it was my Christian friends who understood and uninvited me from the book launch events we had planned, telling me I needed to be home with my family. In the ensuing weeks, I would learn that many of my Christian friends were also experiencing similar stress, trauma, and sleeplessness as a result of the war.
Special and uplifting
Many conversations became about how embarrassed people were with the Biden administration’s glaring attacks against Israel – calling Israel’s response “over the top” and “dehumanizing” Palestinian Arabs, a tone-deaf knee-jerk calling for a two-state solution in the wake of Oct. 7, and more. This was even before the administration enabled an anti-Israel UNSC resolution to pass, empowering the terrorists supported by such noble actors as Russia and China. Even though many of my Christian friends, some of them very conservative, didn’t want to hear anything good about the Biden administration, I was honest with them. I agreed that many of the administration’s comments, as well as some made by other Democratic leaders, were very troubling, but at that point at least it had not (yet) cut off arms shipments to Israel or threatened to do so.
The United States is a vast country. Driving 2,400 miles and flying through seven airports, making multiple connections, I got to see a wide stretch of its beauty, from low-lying mountains to flat ranches and farms. I also got to interact with countless Americans who, like my new friend Bob, showed me that there are millions like them who support Israel.
I already knew this, but it was special and uplifting to experience it personally, especially at this time. The hugs, both real and virtual, were sincere.
Yes, over the years I have developed many genuine, warm friendships among Christians all over the world. I know that many of my experiences, not only on this recent trip but also in general, were a result of personal relationships. But for many Christian friends, I am one Israeli Jew (sometimes the only one) they know. Their love, care, support, and prayers go beyond me. In a sense, I represent Israel and the Jewish people to them and become a vehicle through which to demonstrate their love and concern not only for me but for all of us. My hope is that through this brief recap of my four weeks abroad during this war, where I experienced incredible and even unprecedented support from so many Christian friends, many more Israelis and Jews all over the world will at least begin to understand and appreciate this reality and be strengthened and comforted by it.
