Even Here
Shortly before the pandemic, about three and a half years ago now, I attended a funeral in Des Moines at a downtown synagogue. The temple was some distance from the cemetery, and as is customary, there was a police escort for the funeral procession, including officers at designated intersections directing traffic.
That explained the police cars outside, I thought. I saw a uniformed officer in the hallway outside where the service itself was to be held, but I didn’t think much of it at the time, figuring he was part of traffic control. But he remained in place as the procession lined up, which led me to think that he was on duty inside the synagogue for a reason.
I asked a few friends in Des Moines afterwards if this was common practice, or if officers were at other worship sites, but no one had any information; soon after, the pandemic hit, and I did not think much more about it.
Then on Friday, I got word that services for a Jewish congregation in Mason City scheduled for that evening had to be cancelled. It seems they tried to hire an off-duty officer in the area to provide protection…but when none was available, they cancelled the worship.
Let that sink in for a minute. A group of people in Iowa believed that the threat to their safety, solely because of their faith, was significant enough that they’d prefer to cancel services than risk being vulnerable.
Of all fundamental principles of this democratic republic is the right to freely practice your faith without fear of governmental interference—and without fear for your life.
The next day came word that a Detroit synagogue president was stabbed to death outside her home. Officials are not prepared to say that the killing was faith-related…but Michigan is a state where the Governor’s response to the Hamas terror attack was far less than full support for Israel.
We’d like to think that no place in Iowa is like Detroit…we’d like to think that, but in these troubled times, I’m far less certain.
