From atop the mount in Biblical times did G-d give Moses the law. As his word has adapted to the times, so the law has evolved. Ten commandments into 613. The Talmud, the Torah, rabbinical law, Halakah, the Magna Carta, the Emancipation Proclamation, the Balfour Declaration, Nuremberg, and the founding of Israel. And, more recently, civil rights in America.

Responsibility weighed heavy on the shoulders of Judge Golda Levy Silverstein as she considered her place being a white woman administrating American justice. Let’s look at a typical day in her courtroom.

“BANG BANG BANG” rang her gavel.

“The court will come to order. What’s next, Ms. Prosecutor?”

“Judge Silverstein, this next case is heinous!”

“Oy vey! Not another hate crime!?!”

“I’m afraid so, your honor.”

“Proceed, Prosecutor Bernstein. Proceed.”

“Your honor, we have here one Joe Sixpack; he’s being charged with aggravated hate in the second degree compounded…”

Sixpack stood with his head bowed; he was an average and uncomfortable man.

“That name sounds familiar. I thought Mr. Sixpack’s case was cleaned out already.”

“That was his small business, your honor. This time, the crime took place at his residence.”

“And the complainant victim?”

“That would be Mr. Washington.”

“Good to see you, Mr. Washington. Please tell the court what happened.”

“Well, your honor, I’m just a poor burglar who ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

“You’re not on trial here, sir. Proceed, and don’t worry about Mr. Sixpack; he will never wrong you again.”

“Thank you your honor. I appreciate that. I really do. You see, I have a fear of white people, and through no fault of my own, for economic reasons, I was, uh, robbing Sixpack’s house, and he got all upset, and he called me a nigger!”

The courtroom let out a collective gasp upon hearing the n-word.

“That’s not true, your honor…” The pathetic white criminal was cut off.


“Mr. Sixpack you will not speak up unless spoken to.”

“Sorry, your honor, I only…”


“Please continue, Mr. Washington.”

“So I got mad, and I stopped stuffing my loot sack and I raped his wife while he was tied up.”

“And did he call you the n-word at that time?”

“No, so then I kill the baby, and then he called me the n-word. I got it on video!”

There were catcalls from the audience. The judge cleared her throat.

“I understand emotions run high, but there is no place for racism in our society. Mr. Sixpack, you seem somewhat remorseful, so although I am going to award Mr. Washington ownership of your house, I will not send you to prison if you offer a heartfelt apology to Mr. Washington for the hateful way you treated him as he robbed your house and harmed your family. Is that okay with you, Mr. Sixpack?”

“Your honor, first of all, I’d like to apologize for being born white. I’d like to apologize to Mr. Washington for his ancestors having been slaves. If I could go back in time and trade places with them, I would. Boo-hoo-boo-hoo! (sob sob sob!)…”

“Compose yourself, Mr. Sixpack. You have satisfied the court that you regret what you said, and you leave here a free man…”

Just then, the double doors to the courtroom burst in and heads turned as a little bearded man with a hat marched towards the bench, clutching a plastic shopping bag filled with papers.

“Rabbi Mensch, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“My bus ran late, Judge Silverstein, but here I am, and a good thing also because I have to tell you this man Sixpack, before the racist thing, to me he denied the Holocaust!”

There was a collective hush. The outrage was palpable, both on the faces of those who worked at the court and the people in the audience, but for different reasons. Joe Sixpack didn’t have a friend in the room, though; his own lawyer pushed his chair further from his client.

“But that’s not true! I’ve never seen this man…”


“In light of this new testimony, the court will re-assess its sentencing.” The previously forgiving Judge took on a somber tone as she eyed the defendant.

“Mr. Sixpack, you are not only racist but you are also an anti-Semite, and there can be no overlooking that. You will be going to prison.”

She turned to Mr. Washington as the black man looked up at her suspiciously.

“Mr. Washington, I’m afraid you will not be receiving ownership of the house after all. The house will instead become the property of Rabbi Mensch.”

“You mean to tell me that after all I been through, you gonna take my house! He called me nigger!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Washington, but you should know by now that the Holocaust trumps slavery.”

“White bitch!”