Little Things

When I was six years old, my father had founded Carmel College, and he moved the family into the English countryside west of London.

The school initially only took pupils of a certain age. So, I was sent to a local Church of England village school with one teacher, located just outside the Carmel estate.

For the first time, I became aware of Christian antagonism when I was surrounded by other pupils, bullied, and told that I had killed Jesus. Even at six years old I had a mind of my own. Lord knows why, but I remember replying that I didn’t care and anyway Jesus was the lump of ‘cheesus.’ The teacher was furious, got in touch with my father and insisted that he remove me from the school. Instead, he arranged for homeschooling until I was able to join Carmel College.

Several years later during school holidays, I would walk the three miles from the school to Wallingford, the nearest town, with enough pocket money to buy a ticket to the local Regal cinema. When I got there, the manager told me that the price had gone up, and I didn’t have enough money to get in. I replied that I thought this was unfair and that as I had walked all this way perhaps, he could make an exception. But he replied that as I was a Jew, I should know all about money, because that’s all that mattered to Jews, and set me off with a flea in my ear. Another incident that reinforced my awareness that we were different and not very popular.

A few years later when I was old enough to play in the school soccer team, we often went to play against non-Jewish schools. In almost every case either our opponents or the local spectators would abuse us for being Jewish and often played rough either to test us or to express their antagonism. When I mentioned this to my father his response, surprisingly, was simply to tell us to repay them in kind.

the first debate I participated in at Cambridge University in the Union was on the subject of whether the Jews had any right to take Palestine from the Arabs. I argued our case strongly and we won the vote.  In those days the voices of those who supported Israel’s right to exist were strong enough win the argument.

Years later I became the headmaster of Carmel College, I attended meetings of the Society of Headmasters where once a year there was a dinner to which we were expected to attend. On one occasion I was asked if I would say the Grace before Meals and they were perfectly happy for me to recite the motzi in Hebrew and English (don’t worry I did get kosher food). But as I got up to say grace a group of headmasters and walked out protesting that they thought this was a Christian organization and they did not want to hear a non-Christian make the grace without mentioning Jesus. And these were the headmasters of major English schools. Yet at Carmel there were some wonderful non-Jewish teachers who were immensely devoted to the school and supported its Jewish ethos.

I was always aware of anti-Jewish sentiment. But it was mainly low key, and I could hardly say that I suffered. Anyway, I had sufficient confidence in my Jewish identity not to let it get to me. Indeed, these little pinpricks reinforced my Jewish identity rather than the opposite.

Later I became a rabbi in London and I accepted Chief Rabbi Jakobovitz’s invitation to become responsible in his cabinet for Interfaith.  For a few years I devoted myself to establishing good relations with the various Christian denominations and with Muslims who at that stage were still relatively new to England and were grateful for the support and encouragement that I gave them to follow in our footsteps and integrate into the community while stressing the importance of pride in their own traditions and institutions.

I enjoyed these interactions and conferences and the friendships, some of which I have to this day. But soon became aware that the interfaith world comprised a small layer of intelligent, sensitive good men and women of all faiths.  Although they got on well with each other, they seemed to have little impact on the vast majority of the members of their different religions who were still mired in prejudice and so I withdrew. Although to this day I have immense admiration for the great work my brother David does for interfaith. Whereas my lack of patience and frustrations led me to concentrate elsewhere.

I mentioned all these little things to indicate how impressionable we humans can be and how easily dehumanized by the antagonism of others. I am conscious of the fact that these small little things affected my sense of alienation. Just as I was aware of how wonderful and rewarding were the small acts of friendship and warmth.

Many of our children will experience much more alienation than we had to. One has to fight prejudice and one-sided information. And indeed, that there are many Jews who prefer joining our enemies. Despite everything we must encourage good relations with other human beings. Many of them also who fight against prejudice and discrimination. If one cares about our heritage we have to stand tall and strong against those who think and act otherwise and realize how important is to be kind, caring and sensitive even when it is not reciprocated. Little things can have a huge impact, both ways.

Rabbi Jeremy Rosen lives in New York. He was born in Manchester. His writings are concerned with religion, culture, history and current affairs – anything he finds interesting or relevant. They are designed to entertain and to stimulate. Disagreement is always welcome.