My first visit to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, marked me for the rest of my life. The museum exists primarily to explain how antisemitism led to the Holocaust so that it will never happen again. Most of its displays explain the ideology and worldview behind antisemitism across history, and specifically in the rise of Hitler and European pogroms against the Jews.
In addition, to reinforce the reality of the genocidal tragedy, one exhibit shows hundreds of shoes confiscated from concentration camp prisoners before they were gassed. Another displays some personal artifacts from them—family pictures, jewelry, even locks of hair.
By far, the most moving experience at Yad Vashem for me, however, is the Children’s Memorial. Constructed to remember the 1.5 million children who were massacred by the Nazis (one-fourth of the total number murdered). It is unlike any museum I have ever seen.
To start, you walk through a door into a darkened corridor. The corridor eventually leads into a large open room filled with mirrors reflecting six candles in the middle. The result is the creation of six million “lights.” As you stand surrounded by them, you hear the names of children murdered by the Nazis as they are read solemnly. When you leave the exhibit, if you’re like me, you will be crying.
I have tears in my eyes now remembering the experience. Every time I go to Israel, I visit again. And I weep again.
My Jewish friend in Houston
However, for many of us—myself included—the Holocaust in particular and antisemitism in general can feel like foreign concepts. I grew up in Houston, Texas, where I knew only one Jewish person in my school. He lived down the street from me and often invited me over to play basketball. He and his family even invited me occasionally to swim in their pool and to play tennis with them at their club.
It never occurred to me that he was any different from me, much less someone whose race and religion were inferior to mine.
Many Americans, at least prior to the recent rise of antisemitism on our college campuses, could have said the same. We know about the tragic scourge of racism that led to slavery, our Civil War, and ongoing racial conflicts and systemic discrimination. We’re familiar with discrimination against Hispanic and Asian minorities. Most women have their own stories of facing gender discrimination in the workplace and in larger society.
But Jews in America comprise only 2.4 percent of our total population, the majority of them in New York and other northeastern states. They have not typically faced systemic discrimination along the lines of other minorities. In part, because most Jews resemble Anglos in appearance, many Americans do not even consider them a separate race. We see their religious traditions on display at Hanukkah and other times during the year, but there’s nothing offensive or threatening about them.
We’re grateful for the contributions of Albert Einstein, Joseph Pulitzer, Irving Berlin, George Gershwin, Paul Simon, Stan Lee, Jonas Salk, Itzhak Perlman, Leonard Bernstein, Elie Wiesel, J. Robert Oppenheimer, Henry Kissinger, Sergey Brin, Jerry Seinfeld, Steven Spielberg, Madeleine Albright, and Mark Zuckerberg, among others. It doesn’t occur to most of us to see them as a threat to ourselves or our way of life, but rather as a gift to our nation.
Four roots of antisemitism
Why, then, is antisemitism such a growing problem around the world and in the US? Consider four root causes.
One: Destructive envy
In his book Why the Germans? Why the Jews? German historian Götz Aly observed that antisemitism is deeply rooted in destructive envy. According to columnist Mathias Döpfner, Aly showed that for centuries, people have been jealous not only of the outward successes of the Jews but also of their culture, religion, and history that have continued across millennia.
Two: Jealousy of their success
According to Thomas Sowell, this envy is a product in part of the Jews’ typical place in society as “middleman minorities.” Often in history, Jews were driven from their land and their agrarian lives by which they produced food and goods for themselves and others. Forced into other trades, many became bankers, retailers, and merchants.
Because they highly value literacy due to their commitment to reading and obeying the Hebrew Bible, they often excel at such endeavors. Their biblical commitments to hard work, good financial stewardship, and family and cultural solidarity often lead to communal success and generations-long continuity in their various professions.
As a result, they are often more successful than the farmers or factory workers who produce the goods that Jewish businesses finance, market, sell, and distribute. Many therefore see them as “parasites” on society who are resented by those who are less prosperous.
Three: Racial prejudice
Racial prejudice has plagued Jews across their history. The Qur’an calls them “apes” and “swine” (cf. 5:60; 7:166). Hamas similarly blames them for the French Revolution, the Communist revolution, World Wars I and II, and wars around the world today.
A twentieth-century book called The Protocols of the Elders of Zion has greatly advanced such horrific antisemitism. It is a work of fiction written to blame Jews for a variety of ills, alleging that a group called the “Elders of Zion” leads a Jewish conspiracy to dominate the world. In 1921, it was exposed as completely fraudulent, but its claims persist among various antisemitic groups.
Adolf Hitler was similarly able to convince millions of Germans that Jews were the source of political, social, economic, and ethical problems confronting their nation. Only a few hours before he committed suicide, Hitler continued to call them “international swindlers for money” who were “truly responsible for this murderous struggle.”
Four: Critical theory and “colonialism”
“Critical theory” (CT) is a Marxist construct that interprets life within sociological and economic realities. It claims that majorities achieve their status by oppressing minorities and that the wealthy gain their wealth by oppressing the poor.
Accordingly, CT views the success of Israel as proof of its oppression of Palestinian minorities. CT advocates claim that the Jews stole their land from its rightful Arab owners and then “colonized” it. This view, which has become dominant on many college campuses, has greatly fueled antisemitism on these campuses and in the larger culture.
Three urgent calls to action
This paper is relevant to you and me on three levels.
First, it is a passionate call to “pray for the peace of Jerusalem” (Psalm 122:6) and to support the State of Israel.
I was asked recently if a person could be an anti-Zionist (someone who does not believe the modern State of Israel should exist) without being antisemitic. In replied that this is possible in theory, that some in history have actually argued that Jews would be better off if they did not have a state in such a contested part of the world.
After October 7, however, this argument pales. The horrific violence perpetrated that day proved that the Jews must have a strong homeland to defend their people and perpetuate their race. If the Israeli Defense Force had not been able to respond to Hamas, its carnage would have continued unchecked across the country. If the IDF were unable to defend Israel from its other enemies, the state would soon be annihilated. And Jews around the world would no longer have a safe haven for themselves and their posterity.
We must therefore condemn antisemitism wherever and whenever it arises and support the Jewish state in its existential fight for its existence and future.
Second, it is a call to include the Palestinians in our compassion.
We know them to be made in God’s image just as fully as Jews or any other peoples (Genesis 1:27). We know that they are descended in part from Ishmael, a son of Abraham who was protected by God (Genesis 21:8–21) and whose descendants are named in Scripture (Genesis 25:12–18). God loves them as much as he loves Jews (Galatians 3:28).
In addition, it is to Israel’s benefit for Palestinians to flourish in the Middle East. Both have ancestral homelands there. Both have lived alongside each other for much of their history. The deaths of innocent Palestinians in Israel’s ongoing conflicts with Hamas and Hezbollah only further inflames the region, produces future terrorists, and aligns the world against Israel.
Some of my dearest friends in the Middle East are Palestinian Arabs. God loves them as much as he loves you and me.
Third, it is an invitation to consider our own hearts.
As I know myself, I have no antisemitic tendencies or temptations whatsoever. To the contrary, having led more than thirty study tours to Israel over the years, I love the nation and its people. I have often said that if there were two of me, one would want to live in Israel.
But the fact that I am not tempted by antisemitic discrimination does not mean that I am not tempted by discrimination of other kinds.
One of Satan’s most subtle strategies is to suggest that because we do not commit the sins of others, we have no sins of our own to confess. This is particularly true with regard to racism and discrimination. Few of us are free from such temptations against others, whether on the basis of race, gender, or ideology.
Evangelical Christians must especially beware of an innate sense of superiority over those who are spiritually lost. It is easy for us to think ourselves better than them by virtue of our salvation, when in fact, we are saved only by God’s grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8–9). We are just as tempted to sin as anyone we know (see Paul’s example in Romans 7 as evidence).
We are merely beggars helping other beggars find bread.
Conclusion
So, will you take a moment right now to pray for God’s protection for Jewish people around the world and for an end to the scourge of antisemitism? Will you pray for peace with justice in the Middle East and for God’s best for all who live there?
And will you ask God to show you the condition of your own heart as you face temptations to prideful superiority and discrimination against others?
When we are looking down on others, we cannot be looking up at God.
Where are you looking today?