"On the Monday after the siege at Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville, Texas, I heard Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker, describe the first moments of the terror attack in his Colleyville, Texas sanctuary.
'While we were praying and my back was turned — we face toward Jerusalem when we pray — I heard a click… and it turned out that it was his gun.'
I am sure every other rabbi listening felt the fear and vulnerability of that moment viscerally.
Preparing for such a moment has become a part of the modern rabbinate.
Indeed, on my first day as a newly ordained rabbi in a New Jersey pulpit in 1988, I was taken on the traditional tour of my new spiritual home. Along with all the usual highlights, I was shown the location of panic buttons installed in various places, 'just in case.'
Over the next 30 years, and especially after 9/11, the Tree of Life synagogue massacre in 2018, and the attack at Chabad House in Poway, California, in 2019, 'just in case' came to include active shooter training, situational awareness and security audits with local, state and federal law enforcement.
'Just in case' meant uniformed security at the door, local police in the parking lot, and plainclothes security in the sanctuary. And 'just in case' included becoming a grant writer so my synagogues could install electronic door locks, hardened entry doors, security lighting, video surveillance, blast-proof window coatings, and truck-stopping bollards. A security consultant even suggested my lectern be lined with Kevlar, 'just in case.'
And it is not just rabbis who have had to adjust to this new normal in the face of the scourge of rising antisemitism. Sadly, so, too, have our congregants and even our children. On Saturday night, after the hostages in Texas escaped, my daughter tweeted, 'it’s why at Jewish summer camp, we practiced lockdown drills and had to know where we would be able to hide the kids across camp if someone armed made it onto camp.'
This is Jewish life in America in 2022..."