My first encounter with antisemitism, when I was about nine years old and growing up as the lone Jewish kid in an entirely Catholic neighborhood, was being called by some bully a Christ-killer. I would go on to encounter many other stripes of Jew-hatred: Jews have too much money, power, and influence, Jews are devious, obnoxious, money-grubbing, and pushy, Jews are vengeful, dishonest, and, simply, evil. Yet it was the charge of deicide which, more than any other imprecation, stuck with me. What could be more damning, more irredeemable, than murdering God? The Jews not only rejected immanence—God’s physical presence on earth—we crucified it.
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