I never thought I'd have to give this sermon, but observing the events taking place around us these days, I'm no longer so sure. I'd like to think that we're living in a different age, and in a different type of land in which anti-Semitism is a thing of the past, but I may be wrong.

So let me begin by saying that I'm no one of those people who obsesses about anti-Semitism. I don't believe the world hates us. Still I do think we have a responsibility to be vigilant in watching the world around us. And we have a responsibility to think about who our enemies are.

Over the course of twenty two years in the Rabbinate, I've witnessed some amazing, life changing events in the Jewish world. It's easier now than ever to live openly and proudly as a Jew. We're not afraid to raise our voices against anti-Semitism. Maybe more important, anti-Semitism is no longer acceptable at least here in America.

We Jews have become more outspoken and vocal in self-defense. Sixty years ago we were hesitant to speak out on behalf of our brothers and sisters in Europe even as they were being slaughtered by the Nazis. Last year almost a half a million Jews gathered in Washington to speak out in support of the state of Israel. The world has changed. We are not afraid to say what we think.

Jewish life has changed. We're proud that Israel has grown from a small beleaguered country into a powerful and influential nation. And we can't help but ponder the unique position of Jews in the United States where one of our own can now be nominated as a candidate for the vice presidency (and maybe even the presidency) of our country. Ironically, we still argue whether or not such a thing is "good for the Jews." None the less, the world is certainly a different today than it was a generation ago when our parents were growing up.

Of course there still 'incidents.' The Anti-Defamation League keeps an annual tally of anti-Semitic acts. I remember waking up to the news that swastikas had been painted on the walls of a local synagogue while I was living in Harrisburg. Within twenty four hours the entire community was mobilized and people of all backgrounds came together to scrub the walls of the synagogue clean. Such incidents are just that - isolated incidents and acts of an alienated pariah and not people we consider real Americans. Somewhere along the way "anti-Semitism" became "un-American."

But the opening words of today's Torah portion stand as an ominous warning about how uncertain the world can be. "Vayakam melekh hadash al mitzraim asher lo yada et yosef." "A new king arose in Egypt who did not know Joseph." Commenting on this verse, Rashi ponders whether the king of Egypt was really 'new' or whether he was simply a man who understood the real politick of ancient Egypt and choose to conveniently forget what Joseph had done for Egypt.

In either case, the Torah suggests how fickle the world can be. In the turn of a verse one can go from being an accepted member of society to an enemy of the state. We wonder - can it happen here? Is America really different? Isn't it interesting that despite everything we are still so insecure about our place in society?

Over the past two years we've witnessed the rise of Anti-Semitism once again in Europe. It's easy to dismiss these incidents as a product of Anti-Israel hatred or the simmering anti-Semitism that has never completely disappeared from European society. Still, it's hard to ignore them. In North America there's seems to be a rising tide of hostility on our college campuses not only from Moslem students but tenured professors. We wonder whether the recent scandal at Concordia University in Montreal is a portent of things to come. We worry about the poet laureate of New Jersey who openly espouses anti-Semitism behind the banner of freedom of _expression. What do these incidents say about where we are going, about what our society is becoming? We want to believe that America is different….

What is the response of the world around us to such incidents? The response hasn't changed in fifteen hundred years. A Midrash claims that Pharaoh's anti-Semitic policies were not his alone. Commenting on the words of the Egyptian leader, "Hava nitkhamah lo - Let us deal wisely with the Israelites," the sages wondered with whom Pharaoh took council and what his advisors had to say?

The Midrash claims that Pharaoh had three advisors: One was Balaam, the famous gentile prophet who would later try to curse the Israelites. The second was Job, who's story of suffering appears later in the Bible in a book named after him. And the third was Jethro, the Midianite priest who would become the father-in-law of Moses.

When Pharaoh suggested a policy of genocide to his advisors, the Midrash tells us that each responded differently. Balaam became an accomplice and readily agreed with Pharaoh's plan; Job chose to remain silent (according to the rabbis that's why he suffered later in life) and Jethro protested and then fled for his life from the clutches of Pharaoh.

There are three different responses to hatred in the Midrash: to buy in and become part of it; to remain silent and apathetic and thereby allow it to fester and grow; or to protest and distance oneself from the problem. Are these the only responses to anti-Semitism? When I shared this Midrash this morning with my son, Dani, he responded with surprise. "Are those the only responses?" he asked. This Midrash assumes that Anti-Semitism is a fact of life, something that's just going to happen. New kings arise. All we can do is react to them.

"Surely there are ways in which we can be proactive," Dani asked me, "so we can stop anti-Semitism before it becomes "a problem." I'd like to think that there are. And maybe the first is not being hateful and prejudiced ourselves. Unless we reach out to the world and take the hands of those who are different from us the world will continue to be "us" and "them."

Jews spend a lot of time thinking about hatred. Our Jewish holidays seem to revolve around hate: from Pharaoh to Haman to Antiochus to Hitler. But maybe these men are not the real enemies. Maybe the real enemies are to be found in how we choose to respond to such hatred and bias. There will always be demagogues and tyrants. And there will always be people who follow them. The only question is how do we respond and how do others respond.

It seems to me that the real enemy among Pharaoh's three advisors was Job who chose to remain silent in the face of hate. He is the one we have to worry about. Because silence is assent - silence allows the cancer of bigotry to grow.

And that, of course, applies not only to anti-Semitism but all forms of prejudice. The first thing that we can do to stop it is raise our voices whenever we witness hatred, no matter who it is against. As Elie Wiesel put it: the opposite of love is not hate. It's apathy.

New kings will arise, of that you can be certain. We can't stop hate but maybe we can teach people not to be silent when they find themselves face to face with it. Apathy is the real enemy. That is a fact we must never forget.

Shabbat Shalom