While it may be true that Georg Frideric Handel was an anti-Semite, it is also true that most of the Christian European population was infused with the same sentiment throughout the history of established church structure, both Catholic and Protestant. My experience of Handel’s “Messiah” is that it is based on both Hebrew biblical scripture as well as Christian gospel texts, and it uses all the texts exactly as the Church had been interpreting them since the beginning of Christianity. Handel’s motive in composing the oratorio may certainly have been to point out that there is divine retribution from a Christian perspective against the Jewish people; however, this is not evident in the work itself. Further, it could be said that Handel was a lover of the Jews since he also composed numerous oratorios with subjects favorable to Israel (e.g. “Israel in Egypt,” “Judas Maccabeus,” “Solomon,” etc.). There is no indication in any of those oratorios, with which I am extremely familiar, that Handel bore any ill will to Jews or Judaism. 

The point is that sometimes it’s just a good piece of music. And there is such a lack of good music these days that I would say, the more we learn about the history of music and the more we hear the great classical works, the better off we are—culturally, intellectually and yes, spiritually. The texts are almost inconsequential. The goal is to feel uplifted and enlivened by an esthetic and rich experience, an encounter with beauty.

I sang in churches as a young professional singer in New York before becoming interested in the cantorate. It wasn’t always comfortable dealing with the words, but there was never a question that worship was heightened by the sound of the organ and the choir, and the mystery and majesty of the great musical works. I miss this today in much of Jewish worship, as much as I miss the Orthodox davening, guided by a wonderful chazan, of my childhood shul in Queens, New York. It is why I chose Reform Judaism (not only because I am a woman), but because I knew I could help to create an esthetic experience in the synagogue (assuming I would have the resources, which I fortunately do), while still maintaining Jewish “ta’am.”

What I dearly wish for is that children be educated again in the arts, learn to love all music, be educated Jews and know what they are saying when they pray and sing, and celebrate their Judaism because they are informed Jews. At the same time, they should respect and admire the contributions of artists of other faiths and cultures. 

When I was young I was cautioned against entering churches. Frankly, I found that odd. No building or piece of stained glass could make me change who I am and what I believe. As for Wagner and Mendelssohn, it’s time to re-think this. I was given a recording of a wedding ceremony from 1939, held at the Waldorf-Astoria and conducted by Rabbi David deSola Pool. The male choir of Shearith Israel, the famous Sephardic synagogue in New York City, sang “Baruch Haba” to the tune of Wagner’s wedding march from “Lohengrin,” the famous “Here Comes the Bride” melody that we all know and are prohibited from using. So we might say that at times, we receive mixed messages. Although we try to be sensitive to Holocaust survivors, we perhaps need to do that in ways that are much more meaningful and powerful than banning a piece of music, which in itself was and is not an instrument of harm.

As for children participating in holiday events in the public schools, I believe that as long as balance is achieved at these events, there is nothing to get stressed about. If our children are receiving the proper religious instruction both at home and in our synagogues, they know the score (no pun intended). It’s when they are coerced or forced, or given one message only, that we need to get involved. 

Again, the music is not at fault here, and all music should be appreciated and celebrated for its beauty. I feel obligated as a cantor not to step over the line in public and give a contradictory message, so I do not perform certain songs in public. However, many years ago, when a dying congregant of whom I was very fond, asked me sing “Ave Maria” at his funeral, I declined, but made a tape of it for him to listen to before he died. His family never forgot that.  And they’ve all married Jews and raised Jewish children—go figure. The point? You know it.

’Messiah’ lovers may be surprised to learn that … the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus was designed not to honor the birth or resurrection of Jesus but to celebrate the destruction of Jerusalem and the Second Temple in A.D. 70. For most Christians in Handel's day, this horrible event was construed as divine retribution on Judaism for its failure to accept Jesus as God's promised Messiah. (Michael Marissen, New York Times, April 8, 2007)

It’s clear that much of early Christian church writing was anti-Semitic, to distinguish Christianity from Judaism. It’s also clear that most sacred music—oratorio included—uses these texts.

What am I, as a Jew and a cantor, supposed to make of this? If I know that something was intended to be an anti-Jewish diatribe, i.e. the Hallelujah Chorus, should I "apologize" for it by saying, well, there were some Jews in the audience and they didn't mind ... so why all the fuss? Over time we've come to believe the “midrash” of the King's entering the concert hall at the exact time that the Chorus was being sung for the first time, hence then everyone stood, hence now everyone stands. Now that we know “the rest of the story,” should I as a Jew stand when the Hallelujah Chorus is played during a concert I am attending? What about Mendelssohn or Wagner? Mendelssohn converted to Christianity to marry socially upward to save his sorry career; Wagner … just the name reminds us of Nazi death camps, Hitler and the Shoah.

On the other hand, not all Christian material is anti-Semitic. Christian musicians then and now who target Christian audiences do not deliberately antagonize Jews. In today's society it’s not necessarily anti-Jewish when the airwaves and town squares are filled with Christmas music; rather, it’s pro-Christmas and commercial.

As a cantor, perhaps I draw my boundaries differently from others. Because of my position in the community and my calling within Judaism, I no longer sing Christian-text music publicly because it’s inappropriate. When members of my synagogue’s choir offer to visit area nursing homes and sing Christmas music as a gift to the residents, I urge them to do so—but as “private citizens,” not members of the synagogue choir, and I don’t join them.  

I don’t follow the halachah that says that Jews should not sing/speak/recite words that defy the Second Commandment, "you shall have no other gods ...." Nor do I agree that, since Christianity is the antithesis of Judaism, it is totally inappropriate for Jews to sing/speak/recite their texts or that I, a Jew, should not enter churches, mosques, etc. I’m secure enough as a Jew not to be swayed by temptation.

I don’t welcome Mendelssohn or Wagner wedding music at weddings where I officiate. But I do sing a Halelu melody written by a Sufi master even though it's a Muslim melody, and Muslim extremist anti-Semitism mimics the worst of European anti-Semitism. Jews have been adapting other cultures’ melodies for thousands of years, and I think that’s great.

Singing Christian texts will not turn Jews into Christians. I think back to my own youth: I wasn’t Christian when I sang “O Holy Night” or “Ave Maria” to help Christian friends celebrate Christmas. In college, I learned the Christian masses as a music major and went Christmas caroling with my Jewish friends. And I crank up the Christmas music each year and roar my way through the good stuff and laugh at the bad. I’m still not considering conversion.

And I’m certainly not Christian when I privately tear my way through a Mozart oratorio or weep through a performance of the Faure or Brahms “Requiem.” I ignore the texts and focus on the music.

When they ask, I tell my students who are concerned about singing Christmas or oratorio music at school concerts to go with the flow, enjoy the music and get themselves to religious school and youth group events. If I thought that singing these lovely melodies might convert them, my answer would be different.

So how should I approach difficult texts? With great care, sensitivity and a lot of Jewish knowledge, integrity and a solid Jewish identity.