Rosh Hashanah (New Year) Musings.
Every year the secular world rings in its new year with John Lennon.
Imagine no heaven. Imagine no countries. Imagine no religion. Peace, we are told, arrives when the particulars are stripped away. When nothing is left to fight over because nothing is left at all.
But the world has more than one new year and it does not need a godless song with a pretty melody and piano part.
This week the shofar sounds.
For the Jewish people it marks Yom Teruah, the day of the blast, the appointed time when the trumpet calls a scattered people to attention. Tradition hears in it the coronation of the King, the summons to judgment, the memory of the covenant, and the ancient hope of an ingathering yet to come.
It is a day for imagining what God has promised and has not yet finished.
And it offers a very different imagination than Lennon's.
So this Rosh Hashanah, I want to imagine something.
Imagine no antisemitism.
Not just the word.
Not just the public expressions of it.
What if the suspicion, conspiracy theories, blood libels, racial hatred, religious contempt, political scapegoating, and obsession with Jewish people simply vanished from the human heart?
How different would the world be?
Think about what antisemitism has produced throughout history.
Expulsions.
Pogroms.
Forced "conversions".
Religious persecution.
The Inquisition.
Conspiracy theories that blamed Jews for economic and political problems.
The Holocaust.
Soviet persecution.
Modern terrorist movements that still make the destruction of Jewish people part of their ideology.
And beyond the direct violence, antisemitism has repeatedly taught societies a dangerous lesson:
Find a minority.
Blame them for what is wrong.
Convince everyone they are the enemy.
Then make cruelty seem righteous.
That pattern does not stay confined to Jews.
Hatred rarely does.
Antisemitism has also done something worse than history usually admits. It has attacked the gospel at its root.
The good news the apostles proclaimed was not a new message. It was Isaiah's besorah, announced by a Jewish herald, about a Jewish King, to Israel first and then to the nations. Sever the gospel from the Jewish people and there is no gospel left to preach. Yet that is precisely what antisemitism has spent centuries doing. It took a Jewish message about a Jewish Messiah proclaimed by Jewish apostles fulfilling Jewish prophecy and convinced Christians that the Jews were the enemy of the story they starred in. Replacement theology is not a byproduct of antisemitism. It is antisemitism wearing a theological vestment.
So I wonder:
How much evil in human history would never have happened if antisemitism had never existed?
How many wars would have been different?
How many families would have survived?
How many communities would still exist?
How many people would never have been radicalized by conspiracy theories?
How much political manipulation would have lost its most convenient scapegoat?
How much of Christianity would have remembered what its own Scriptures actually say?
I don't believe antisemitism is the explanation for every evil in the world. Human beings are quite capable of inventing evil without it. But antisemitism is one of history's most persistent examples of what happens when hatred is given a target, a theology, a conspiracy, and any lame "justification".
That is why fighting it matters. Not merely to protect Jewish people from one particular form of prejudice, but to confront one of the oldest and most destructive ways human beings have learned to turn fear into hatred and hatred into permission.
Some will say the gospel is about Jesus, not about the Jewish people, as if honoring one required forgetting the other. But Jesus is a Jewish King. He rose as a Jewish man, ascended as a Jewish man, and will return as a Jewish man to reign from Jerusalem. You cannot honor the King while despising his family, his nation, and the covenant people he came to redeem. To sever Jesus from his people is not to exalt him. It is to invent a different Jesus than the one Scripture actually gives us.
Which is why the shofar matters!
The trumpet of Yom Teruah does not summon us to a peace built on erasure. It summons us to a coronation. It calls a scattered people home. It anticipates the day when the King reigns from Jerusalem and the nations finally understand where the story was going all along.
Isaiah heard that day coming.
He saw nations streaming to Zion. Torah going out from Jerusalem. Ten men from every language taking hold of the tzitzit of a Jewish man and saying, we have heard that God is with you. A Jewish King reigning over a redeemed people, with the nations gathered in as fellow heirs and not as replacements.
That is the peace the shofar announces. Not peace through subtraction. Not peace through pretending the particulars never mattered. Peace through the King taking his throne and the nations coming home to Zion.
So this Rosh Hashanah, imagine it with me.
Imagine no antisemitism.
Imagine the ekklesia grafted in and grateful.
Imagine the nations streaming to Zion.
Imagine the Jewish King reigning from Jerusalem while ten men from every language take hold of the tzitzit of a Jewish man.
That world is not a fantasy. It is where the shofar has been pointing all along.
Grace and peace.