Two gunmen took her friend. She won’t let them take something else
A Philosopher’s Delight
Sandego.net – Rabbi Eli Schlanger leaned back in his chair, exhaled a contented sigh, and smiled broadly. “What are you thinking?” Nikki Goldstein asked him. “I am utterly content,” Schlanger replied. “I cherish my wife and children, and I am doing precisely what I was destined to do. I am entirely aligned with my purpose.” It was a summer morning, and a light drizzle fell outside Goldstein’s home. Schlanger had been delayed for their Zoom call, but they soon found themselves engaged in their customary lengthy, reflective discussions. Goldstein, who described herself as a “blonde, blue-eyed, White-passing woman,” occasionally felt uneasy about her Jewish identity. Schlanger, with his glasses and beard, was a man of strict orthodoxy, always donning the black hat and jacket of his faith. Goldstein humorously noted to him that she was the only secular Jew he had ever met.
“There’s no such thing as a secular Jew,” Schlanger gently countered. “We’re just Jews.”
The Bondi Beach Tragedy
Two weeks following that exchange, Schlanger was hosting a Hanukkah celebration on Bondi Beach when tragedy struck. The evening had begun with a festive atmosphere: children laughed while munching on jelly-filled doughnuts, and families gathered to watch the lighting of a menorah, symbolizing the victory of light over darkness. At 7 p.m., Goldstein’s phone buzzed with urgent messages from friends. “Gunshots at Bondi Beach. Sirens and helicopters everywhere…,” one text read. Her heart plummeted. Schlanger was meant to be at the event. “Oh God, it could be MY rabbi,” she sent to a colleague. As more details unfolded through messages, Goldstein’s voice trembled with panic. She collapsed into her husband’s arms, then let out a primal cry, as if mourning a lost animal.
Rising Tides of Antisemitism
Antisemitism, often called “the world’s oldest virus of hate,” made its mark that day seven months prior. At Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, two ISIS supporters shot down Schlanger and 14 others, leaving the community reeling. The incident resonates deeply in the United States, where the same hostility is surging once again. Many American Jews now feel their safety is compromised in public spaces. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) reports that assaults against Jews in the U.S. last year hit a 46-year peak. Armed guards now patrol synagogues, Jewish community centers, and schools routinely. More than 73% of Jews report hiding their Star of David necklaces or other symbols, while 46% say they’ve encountered antisemitic attacks online.
“This is the new normal for Jews in America right now,” Florida Rep. Jared Moskowitz said during a televised interview last month. “Jews are starting to hide in this country, and that is the telltale sign that we are on a very scary trajectory.”
The Roots of Hatred
The seeds of this prejudice stretch back centuries. In the Middle Ages, Jews were often branded as “Christ killers” and driven from European nations. Anti-Jewish riots, or pogroms, swept through Russia in the late 1800s, leaving thousands dead. During the Jim Crow era, one of the most infamous lynchings targeted Leo Frank, a Jewish man accused of murder. The Holocaust, too, was a grim chapter, with Nazi Germany exterminating six million Jews. Yet, the current wave of antisemitism is not merely a historical echo—it is a modern force fueled by political tensions and ideological clashes.
A Dialogue for Healing
The tragedy at Bondi Beach became a turning point for Goldstein and Schlanger, sparking a new journey of understanding. Their conversations, once casual and philosophical, transformed into a profound exploration of Jewish identity and resilience. In a newly released book, “Conversations with My Rabbi: Timeless Teachings for a Fractured World,” they revisit these exchanges, which began in a hospital ICU after Goldstein was hospitalized with pneumonia. Placed on a ventilator, she lay unconscious, her survival deemed uncertain by doctors. Her husband, Rowan, and daughter, Liberty, prepared for the worst. Goldstein describes her recovery as a miracle, one she attributes to Schlanger’s act of blowing a shofar, a traditional Jewish horn.
“The moment the shofar sounded, I knew I was going to be okay,” Goldstein reflected in an interview. “It was like the world paused to remind me of something I’d almost forgotten.”
Goldstein and Schlanger’s collaboration in the book reflects their shared belief in the power of dialogue to bridge divides. They argue that Judaism offers timeless lessons on empathy, community, and the balance between faith and reason. “Jewish teachings can guide us through today’s chaos,” Goldstein said. “They teach us to look beyond our differences and find common ground.” The book also addresses a pressing question: Why do Jewish people continue to be targets of such deep-seated hatred? Can non-Jews, despite the swirl of conspiracy theories and debates over Israel, gain insight from their faith to enrich their own lives?
Their answers are woven into the pages of the book, which traces the evolution of their relationship from a chance encounter in the ICU to a partnership rooted in mutual respect. Schlanger’s presence in Goldstein’s life, even after the shooting, became a symbol of hope. “He showed me that Judaism isn’t just about rituals or rules—it’s about living with purpose,” she said. “Even in the face of death, we can choose to carry forward the light.”
As antisemitism grows, Goldstein and Schlanger’s story serves as a reminder of the resilience of Jewish communities. Their conversations, once a personal refuge, now echo in the halls of American politics. Jewish lawmakers from both major parties, including Moskowitz, have raised alarms about the increasing number of personal threats and the normalization of Jewish fear. Yet, Goldstein remains defiant. “I won’t let them take what’s left of my faith,” she said. “We’ve survived worse, and we’ll survive this.”
With the war in the Middle East intensifying, antisemitism has found new fuel. The Oct. 7 Hamas attack on Israel, which killed over 1,200 people, sparked a brutal Israeli response in Gaza, resulting in the deaths of at least 72,000 Palestinians. These events have heightened tensions globally, with antisemitic incidents rising in the U.S., Australia, and Europe. But the roots of this hatred run deeper than recent conflicts. From medieval Europe to the American South, Jewish people have long been scapegoated for societal unrest. Now, in an era of social media and instant outrage, these prejudices have found fresh expression.
Goldstein and Schlanger’s book is a testament to the enduring strength of Jewish tradition. Through their exchanges, they reveal the quiet strength that comes from a shared belief in the sanctity of life and the power of community. “Judaism teaches us that even in darkness, there is always a way to light the way,” Schlanger said. Their work is not just a chronicle of survival—it is an invitation to reflect on what it means to be Jewish in a world that often sees them as outsiders.
