I'm not Jewish. I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood. Many of my neighbors had tattoos from the Nazi's. Despite this, they were kind people for whom I have a lot of respect and admiration. They would pay my brother and I to turn on lights and stoves on Fridays because of Shabbat (kindling fire) . Growing up, we learned they went to their church on Saturday, and we went to ours on Sunday. Like any group, there were a few bad apples. The very thought of replicating this atrocity sickens me.
For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: "If a man will not work, he shall not eat."
