Rabbi Jenna Shaw
I joke that I was raised with two religions: Judaism and baseball. It wasn’t until Yom Kippur 2016 that I saw how profoundly these two worlds intersected through the concept of a scapegoat.
Yom Kippur 2016 coincided with the Chicago Cubs breaking their long-standing “Curse of the Billy Goat.” In 1945, Billy Sianis tried to bring his goat to a game but was turned away.
In frustration, he declared that the Cubs would never win another World Series, a curse that lasted 108 seasons.
I drew a parallel between the Cubs’ struggles and the Yom Kippur ritual in which a goat symbolically carries away the community’s sins. One goat is sent into the wilderness, holding the spiritual weight of the people’s transgressions — a representation of wrong or evil actions. This is the essence of scapegoating: one group or individual bears the brunt of blame, regardless of their culpability, serving as a vessel for collective guilt.
This year, we have seen rampant scapegoating within our community. Accusations of “wrong Jews” or “bad Jews” are thrown about too casually, while cries of antisemitism and complicity in violence escalate. As our community fractures amid this chasm, we must step back to ask: in our quest to identify a scapegoat, are we missing the broader picture of Ahavat Yisrael?
In Vayikra Rabbah, we learn focusing solely on the scapegoat is tempting due to its visibility and clarity — it is easy to point fingers at an identifiable “other.” In doing so, we risk neglecting the richness of human experiences and the sacredness of others’ lives. This Midrash reminds us that the scapegoat is only half of the pair; there is another goat inside the Beit Hamikdash that is needed for the ritual. If we only focus on the scapegoat, we miss the holiness taking place inside. Just as if we obsess over finger-pointing and blaming others within our community, we miss the opportunity to create a holy future.
If we must point fingers, let’s bring attention to those striving for a better future. In our current dialogue regarding Israel, we hear two rallying cries: “Cease-fire now!” and “Bring them home!” These calls for protecting human lives are beautifully intertwined. Ending hostilities is the only way to secure the return of the hostages and heal our communities.
Imagine if we approach each differing viewpoint not as a potential scapegoat, but as a unique perspective contributing to a more comprehensive understanding of justice. That mindset can foster a collective Beit Hamikdash where compassion, reflection and learning thrive. Instead of the narratives that further divide us, let us forge a future with a commitment to justice, healing and profound understanding.
Reflecting back to 2016, the Cubs’ success was likely due to new leadership and energy, not a mythical goat. Similarly, we must change our reality — not by clinging to ancient symbols of blame but by being open to new narratives and possibilities for a just society.
In a world where scapegoating is easy and “us versus them” narratives dominate, let’s shift the conversation. By looking beyond differences and truly understanding each other’s experiences, we can work together to create the world we need.
Rabbi Jenna Shaw is a rabbi at T’ruah, The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights, leading the organization’s work on Israel. Before T’ruah, she worked as the assistant director of schools K-12 at Adas Israel Congregation.
