It’s not just college or high school kids; recently, an elderly woman told me she was uneasy about showing the star necklace she had tucked behind the placket of her blouse. However, she was still wearing it!

There has been talk about removing mezuzot while anti-Jewish threats abound, a reaction to vocal assaults in person and in the media. While that reaction is understandable, it would be an act of self-erasure, giving antagonists a victory: if they can’t make us disappear physically, they can make us fearful to the point of paralysis.

The blessing recited as we affix a mezuza contains language of permanence.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ לִקְבֹּעַ מְזוּזָה

baruch atta adonai eloheinu melech ha’olam asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu likbo’a mezuza.

We bless You, Adonai our God, Eternal Sovereign, for imbuing our lives with sanctity by commanding us to affix a mezuza.

לִקְבֹּעַ, likbo’a, means to affix, establish, set, determine; it connotes permanence.

Having a mezuza on your doorpost is a statement of identity; it can be seen as a sign of welcome, an invitation and an indication that “you can be safely Jewish here.”

Yes, a mezuza could lead others to see your home as a target. Nonetheless, we need to stand firm in the face of threat and proudly, even defiantly, declare our identity and solidarity through an item that expresses a rabbinic understanding of a Torah commandment. The handwritten scroll within the mezuza case contains the words of the injunction to “inscribe these words on your doorposts and gates.”

We’ve been doing this for millennia despite a myriad challenges. Why stop now?

(*missed Kislev, though we all recited many brachot for Hanukka! I’ll double up for Tevet. Stay tuned!)