Thursday, April 30, 2015

What is holy? - D'var Torah for Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Board Meeting on April 30, 2015 - based on Leviticus Chapter 19

What is holy?
We may only think of God as holy,
But there is holiness in our practices and relationships.
Honoring our parents, being grateful for the life they have given us, is holy.
Observing Shabbat in some way,
 enough that we can refresh ourselves, “catch our breath” and spend time with our community is holy.

Providing donations to food pantries, soup kitchens and clothing banks to help people in need is holy.
Teaching others not to spread rumors or gossip is holy.
Preventing someone’s reputation from being needlessly ruined through slander or libel is holy.
Not taking advantage of people in any way is holy.
Treating people with objectivity and fairness, as much as possible, is holy.
Speaking to others in private to help them grow or to heal our relationship with them is holy.
Letting go of pent-up hatred and grudges is holy. 
Loving ourselves is holy…
And loving others – people we know, and people we don’t know – is holy because it leads us to see the divine image in them, which makes us all like God – holy.

May we find holiness in ourselves every day, and may we, and all humankind, discover what it means to be holy.

Celebrating Israel's 67 Years - My own questions and answers - April 24, 2015

What has been Israel’s greatest triumph?
Creating, sustaining and defending such a diverse nation in such a hostile area of the world
What has been Israel’s greatest accomplishment?
Sharing talent and knowledge with the world from a position of intellectual strength and leadership
What has been Israel’s greatest challenge?
The search for peace, which, because it has not yet reached its completion, has put Israel in a position of trying to deal with two sets of often intransigent Palestinian Arab leadership on the one hand and a population, on the other, that seeks glimmers of hope in a difficult context.

What is your favorite aspect of Israel?
The history of the land.
What is your favorite place to visit in Israel?
Jerusalem - all of it

What is Israel’s greatest challenge now?
Growing hostility between Muslims in the region, continuing to work with neighbors that are still technically at peace with Israel (and preserving those agreements by demonstrating their value through coordinated action), and holding Iran in check
What is your hope for Israel?
Peace between Israelis and Palestinians that will offer hope and security and the beginning of an end to hatred through the spreading of dialogues such as the Parents Circle, the Interreligious Coordinating Council for Israel, Creativity for Peace, Seeds of Peace, and the “Third Way” settler/Palestinian neighbor dialogue.

Prayer for New Mexico State University Annual Memorial Service to remember faculty, staff, students and alumni - April 30, 2015



Eternal Spirit of the Universe
Be with us as we remember.
There are friends, family members, classmates, teachers, companions,
Who walked with us
Who helped us
Who provided us with wisdom
Who enabled us to put new life lessons into perspective.
We learned with them
We laughed with them
We may have even cried with them
And we relied on them as they renewed our confidence
Refreshed our strength
And restored our hope.
And now they leave a legacy to us
That will remain and become a part of who we are and who we will be.
May their souls be bound up in the bond of all life.  
May we continue to feel their presence among us
Like a light that continues to shine ever more brightly with each passing day and week and month and year.
And remind us, source of solace, to give comfort to each other, whether with a calmly spoken word or in silent support
So that pain and grief will grow into a deep sense of gratitude for the gifts we have received from those no longer with us whom we knew and loved.    
May they all rest in peace and may they find a holy and  cherished place in our minds and hearts.   Amen.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

"Neighbors" - On Cultural Festivals - and Temple Beth-El's Jewish Food and Folk Festival - April 21, 2015

Neighbors.

 We may not know each other as well as we should, but we are all neighbors when live in a community together.  

  We have different opinions.  We come from varying backgrounds.  We have our own stories about who we are and from whence we came.

   No matter what makes us different, our desire to learn and to grow can lead us to broaden our horizons and even find common ground.  

    Cultural events and festivals create opportunities for us to engage on a path of discovery that can turn the unknown and unfamiliar into a part of our experience that we might even want to revisit again...and again.

    There is a blessing that is part of my faith that praises God as a "gracious giver of knowledge."  Learning by itself is important, but these chances that we have around us to get to know each other are gifts that we can receive with gratitude and even joy.

    The Jewish Food and Folk Festival in Las Cruces, planned by members of Temple Beth-El, where I have had the honor to serve over the last several years, will be held at the Temple this coming Sunday, April 26 at 11am-3pm.  This is but one such event that brings people together to socialize and to taste and experience aspects and customs of a group, or people, that have a way of telling where they have been and where their future will take them.

    The sight of people from across the community gathering in our "home" last year was very special.   It represents one way that we can draw closer...as neighbors.

    Please join us as we take this event into its second year, and let us continue to do all we can to find new ways to create good will and unity among us.  

Friday, April 17, 2015

A spark of blessing - Sermon - Parashat/Portion Sh'mini and Yom Hashoah/Days of Holocaust Remembrance - April 17, 2015

   Watching the news on television this morning offered a sober reminder of what happened 20 years ago this coming Sunday.  The bombing of the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was an American tragedy that was unexpected and shocking for many people in our country.  For those who knew that a small number of citizens espoused (and still hold) extreme views like Timothy McVeigh, that horrific event was a terribly unfortunate affirmation of how bigotry can persist in various guises.   The Christian Identity movement which strongly influenced McVeigh teaches that Jews are “the seed of Satan” who are “under God’s curse.”  When it was revealed that the Oklahoma City bomber was associated with that ideology, it put him in virtually the same place as the perpetrators of the Shoah, the Holocaust.   
   The same could be said of the movie “Mastermind” that is now being shown in Turkey. That film claims that Jews have been plotting world domination since the days of the Bible.  It asserts that the 12th Century Scholar Moses Maimonides was a leader in this plot, as was supposedly-Jewish Charles Darwin, who we know was not Jewish at all.  Turkish President Tayyip Erdogan delivered a speech last December 12 which provided the beginnings of the “Mastermind” accusation which the new film carries to its hateful conclusion.   It is difficult to see Turkey, which is still viewed as an ally of the United States, perpetrating this unfounded slander and bigotry.
    On this day after Yom Hashoah V’Hag’vurah, which commemorates the Holocaust and Heroism associated with Shoah, we are mindful of those who still harbor hatred and prejudice that echoes the expressions of the German National Socialist Party and its too numerous supporters and collaborators throughout Europe. 
     We can, however, be grateful that, in most of our 50 states and in other nations, ceremonies were held yesterday that highlight how humanity can overcome this tendency towards fear and hatred.  The
March of the Living brought together 11,000 participants from around the world this week.  One part of that march is a 3 kilometer walk from the gates of Auschwitz to Birkenau.  Those gathered at the March of the Living paid tribute to all who died at the hands of the Nazis.  At the same time, with marchers coming from so many countries and from various ethnic and religious groups, they develop unique and significant bonds with each other as they sought to learn lessons from the Holocaust for today.  Holocaust survivor Sigmund Rolat declared in his speech to the marchers: “Do not believe the magic incantation of 'Never again': it HAS happened again. Think of Bosnia, Sudan, Rwanda. In different ways, to different peoples – but it has. The Shoah remains unique in the sense it was unprecedented. But all genocides are tragic in their own ways, and remembering them is the first step to preventing their recurrence.”
   The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum established “Learning from
the Holocaust: Choosing to Act” as this year’s theme for the week of April 12-19.   Rolats’ comment resonates with that theme regarding how the events of the Holocaust relate to what we can do in the here and now.    A new book by child of survivors Menachem Rosensaft also includes many reflections that direct us to action in the world today.  Rosensaft’s compilation, GOD, FAITH AND IDENTITY FROM THE ASHES, collected comments from the children and grandchildren of Jewish Holocaust survivors from around the world.  Contributors shared wisdom about their own Jewish identity and about how memory and determination to combat hatred, bigotry and fear can help us make a difference for all of humanity.  
Rosensaft, whose parents survived
 Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen, was born in May, 1948 in the Displaced Persons camp of Bergen-Belsen in Germany.   He comes by his reflections on the lessons of the Holocaust from a deep personal experience.  Rosensaft stated in the introduction to his book, “We…have a moral
responsibility not to stand idly by…while human beings anywhere in the world are oppressed or persecuted. We have no right to criticize the world for not coming to the aid of our parents and grandparents during the 1930s and 1940s unless we do everything in our power to fight all forms of contemporary racial, religious, or ethnic hatred and to prevent contemporary genocides, whether in Darfur, Rwanda, the former Yugoslavia, or elsewhere. If we learn only one lesson from the cataclysm known as the Holocaust, it must be that the ultimate consequence of silence and indifference to the dire plight of others was embodied forever in the fires of Auschwitz and the mass graves of Bergen‑Belsen.”
     Rabbi Judith Schindler also shared her reflections in this book.   Her father, Rabbi Alexander Schindler, served for 23 years as president of the Union of American Hebrew Congregations.   Alexander Schindler’s family, with his father facing certain arrest in Germany in 1933, eventually made their way to the United States.   The future rabbi completed high school in America and then served in the United States Army’s Tenth Mountain Division and fought Hitler’s forces in World War II.  He was wounded in Italy, earning a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star.  Judith Schindler was profoundly influenced by her family’s experiences. In her entry in Rosensaft’s book, she explained, “My grandfather's voice calls to me, saying, ‘Never be complacent. Be vigilant about hatred. Speak out against injustice, no matter what the cost.’ When I hear of rhetoric or legislation built upon racism, anti-Semitism, homophobia, Islamophobia, xenophobia, or any other bigotry, I cannot be silent. Even in the face of those who seek to intimidate and threaten me, my past enjoins me to act. My grandfather's voice does not allow me to look the other way when inequities permeate our society and prejudiced voices echo in the air. Acting with moral courage is the message I teach, preach, and aspire to fulfill.  The call of our biblical prophets such as Amos to bring righteousness and justice to the world is a primary Jewish legacy I choose to embrace. My role as a rabbi is to comfort the disturbed, to disturb the comfortable, and to bring God's vision for justice to the world.  The Holocaust taught us that human good is not a given. Free will demands that when free will fails humanity, we must act.”
     Justice Rosalie Silberman Abella, the first Jewish woman to serve on the Canadian Supreme Court, was born in a displaced persons camp in 1946 to parents who had both survived four years in concentration camps.   She focused in her comments in Rosensaft’s book on the themes of remembrance and justice:  “We…need ask no one to forgive us this preoccupation [with how to remember the Holocaust]. It has taught us much. It has taught us that we can never value anything more than justice; that we can never put economies over dignity; that we can never appease bigotry; and that we can never sacrifice morality to expedience.   My generation grew up in the shadow of the worst injustice and inhumanity the world had ever known, injustice perpetrated because of our identity as Jews. That means, to me, that my generation is the generation that has a particular duty to promise our children that we will do everything possible to keep the world safer for them than it was for their grandparents. And that means a world where all children, regardless of race, religion or gender, can wear their identities with pride, in dignity, and in peace.”
    In the Torah reading for this week, Shmini, there is a section in Leviticus, Chapter 9 which portrayed Moses and Aaron blessing the people, accompanied by God’s presence.  A fire then came forth from God to consume the offering that had been placed on the sacrificial altar before them.  The people reacted with amazement as they fell on their faces, realizing they had just witnessed and participated in a sacred moment.  They responded with “shouts,” a word in Hebrew – V’YARONU – which can also mean they let out a cry of joy.  It was their way of voicing amazement, wonder and gratitude towards the presence of God in their midst.  
    Would that we could sense the presence of such a divine spark to today!   Would that we could be blessed as were the Israelites by their leaders Aaron and Moses!   In light of this week’s commemorations of the Holocaust, a spark of God would do all people a lot of good, infusing in us greater understanding that could enhance life throughout the world.  We ourselves have the capability of uncovering that spark and of bringing blessing to ourselves and to each other.    We may think that, to be blessed, we would need to know answers about why people harbor hatred and bigotry that can be such a detriment to the well-being of society.  Greater understanding between people of different backgrounds does not so much emerge from answers, but from deep, insightful questions.  
    Ellen Cassedy, author of WE ARE HERE: MEMORIES OF THE LITHUANIAN HOLOCAUST, shared in a recent article about a conversation with a young Lithuanian woman during a visit to that country.  The woman had been told by her parents that 90% of the residents in their town were Jewish before the war. “We all lived together,” her parents said. Now, this young woman wonders, “How can we touch people’s hearts? How can we use the power of words to free ourselves, to bring peace?” As the conversation continued, Ellen Cassedy noted how she and this young woman from Lithuania spoke of broader questions with implications for all humanity:
  • How can we promote an open frame of mind, rather than a closed, competitive frame of mind – an attitude of “yes, and,” rather than “yes, but”?
  • How can we expect the best of ourselves and others, while also feeling compassion when ordinary people fall short?
  • Can people honor our diverse heritages without perpetuating the fears and hatreds of the past?
  • What do we gain when we seek to overcome mutual suspicions and reach out to “the other”?
  • How can we help people to use the vital tools of civic engagement and social action to resist the forces of hatred?
     Even questions without answers can provide us with a sense of the presence of a divine spark that could become a glowing flame of warmth that offers comfort and hope.    Seeing the face of God in each other and acting based on the belief that all people are created in the divine image can create that warmth and bring us blessing.    It could be as if we, like Moses, Aaron and the Israelites, were standing together in the presence of God.

    Rhonda, Adam and I visited the memorial and museum at the site of the
Murrah Federal Building a number of years after that 1995 tragedy.    Rhonda
recognized that one of the docents who was there had been one of the survivors interviewed in the video shown to museum visitors.  Rhonda offered to give this woman, a stranger, a hug, a gesture that was accepted as a show of support and connection.  In that spirit, may this year’s observance of the Days of Remembrance enable us to connect with the spark of God in every person so that we can overcome hatred and can bring to our world the blessings of cooperation, partnership, love and peace.  


Thursday, April 16, 2015

Choosing to Act, Here and Now - remarks at the White Sands Missile Range Holocaust Commemoration on April 16, 2015



    Mr. Mann, Executive Director; Colonel Winbush, Colonel Michelson and Directors and all who are here today for this gathering of remembrance:  
    It is an honor to have the opportunity to offer reflections in the presence of all of you who work to preserve and defend our country and our freedom.   On a recent trip to Philadelphia for my annual rabbis convention, I was reminded of the significance of that freedom with a visit to the Liberty Bell and a viewing of exhibits at the National Museum of American Jewish history. One of the most significant displays there featured a well-known letter written by newly elected President George Washington to the Jewish congregation in Newport, Rhode Island. Echoing sentiments expressed to him during a visit to Newport by the congregation’s leader, Moses Seixas, Washington characterized the approach of our nation towards its increasingly diverse population: “It is now no more that toleration is spoken of as if it were the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent n
Memorial Candles lit at Temple Beth-El Las Cruces on  April 15, 2015
atural rights, for, happily, the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.”   We know in retrospect how much was yet to be done at that time for the United States to further overcome bigotry and persecution in all respects, an effort that continues even today.   Whatever we do to move towards treating our fellow citizens with greater respect is founded on Washington’s words in 1790.   In the late 18th Century, compared to other nations across the ocean, that American brand of affirmation and acceptance was unique and, as Washington often noted, worthy of imitation.
  1900 years ago, two Rabbis were debating what verse from the first five books of the Bible, the Torah, was its most essential teaching.   One rabbi, Akiba, declared that Leviticus Chapter 19, verse 18, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” was the most fundamental principle in the Torah. His colleague, Ben Azzai, had a different idea. He quoted Genesis Chapter 5, verse 1 as an even greater teaching: “This is the story of humanity: when God created us, God made us in the divine image.” A later rabbi explained that, because of Ben Azzai’s statement, we need to be careful not to put anyone else to shame, because, if we do, we put ourselves to shame as well, since we all came from the same place and there is a spark of God in each of us.
   This last week has featured anniversaries of past events that offer a glimpse into how well people see that divine spark in one another’s eyes and hearts.   150 years ago this past Tuesday, President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated by a man who was dedicated, along with others, to the cause of denying humanity to many people who were brought here against their will and had lived and worked in this country for decades.  68 years ago yesterday, Jackie Robinson took the field for the Brooklyn Dodgers for the first time, enduring whatever hatred was expressed during that season to demonstrate that he and other African-American baseball players belonged in the Major Leagues.   Next week will mark the hundredth anniversary of the widely recognized tragedy of the deaths of Armenians living in the Ottoman Empire which, in some political arenas, still strives to find mention and recognition.   One year ago yesterday, 219 schoolgirls were abducted by Boko Haram in Nigeria and they still have not been found. One year ago this past Monday, Frazier Glenn Miller, Jr. embarked on a personal mission to kill Jews in the Kansas City area, not far from where I was born and raised.   Miller murdered a grandfather and a grandson in the parking lot at the Jewish Community Center in Overland Park, Kansas. He then went to a nearby retirement home, Village Shalom, and murdered a woman who had just visited her mother there. The grandfather and grandson were Methodist. The woman at Village Shalom was Catholic. Miller could not imagine, in his twisted mind, that Jewish facilities might actually serve the greater community, in the spirit of the vision expressed by President Washington.    His violent act had the unintended consequence of bringing closer together people of different faiths in the greater Kansas City area.   
   And 70 years ago, this past Saturday, American soldiers liberated the Buchenwald Concentration Camp, an act that constituted a major part of a movie, released earlier this year, which was screened on the HBO Network. In “Night Will Fall,” director Andre Singer told the story of a lost documentary that the Allies intended to show to the German people as a reminder that, after World War II, it was their task to create a society that gave “to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance.”   British Film producer Sidney Bernstein, then a government official, solicited assistance from director Alfred Hitchcock in making that film which was to be called “German Concentration Camps: A Factual Survey.”  The project was eventually shelved for reasons not fully known, likely driven by the politics of post-war Germany and Great Britain and the desire to have the German people fully participate in the work of reconstruction and de-Nazification. The plan was that the “Factual Survey” would bring together 1945 film footage of the liberation by Soviet troops of Auschwitz in January, the liberation of Buchenwald by American soldiers on April 11, and the liberation of Bergen-Belsen by British troops on April 15. In each camp, specially-trained soldiers filmed the interaction between liberators and survivors. They caught on camera the arrest of Nazi camp leaders and workers who had remained rather than escaping, believing they were in no danger and likely thinking they had done nothing wrong. The film that was taken visually chronicled the horrific results of the Final Solution in those three camps: thousands of bodies of the dead not yet buried, and countless belongings of those brought to the camps piled high in storage facilities more than one could even imagine.   Most of this footage found its way into a film released in 1984,  “Memory of the Camps,” screened on Public Television at that time.   In recent years, the staff at the British Imperial War Museum found more of the footage and, last year, the “Factual Survey” documentary was released as it was intended to be shown, along with its carefully crafted narration. Andre Singer’s film “Night Will Fall” about the restoration process of the “Factual Survey” documentary featured interviews with survivors, soldiers, and some of those who were behind the camera.   The title of Singer’s film came from a line in the documentary’s narration, “Unless the world learns the lesson these pictures teach, night will fall.”   British film critic Peter Bradshaw commented about the power of Singer’s film: “It shows images which I have certainly never seen before. It exposes once again the obscenity of Holocaust denial. This is an extraordinary record. But be warned. Once seen, these images cannot be unseen."
   In considering the topic, “Choosing to Act,” it would be common to focus on rescuers, partisan fighters, leaders of revolts in the ghettoes and concentration camps, and all those who helped others survive. I believe that the staff at the British Imperial War Museum and director Andre Singer demonstrated a modern day choice to act on behalf of the memory of all of those victims for whom candles were lit a few moments ago.   That choice goes beyond recalling those who died, because the remaining survivors, soldiers, and eyewitnesses who saw all that happened may not live too much longer.   To tell the story of the Shoah, the Holocaust is a choice that empowers us to share with the entire world the principle of giving “to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance.”
     That choice to act and the responsibility to tell these stories has now become all the more crucial for the descendants of survivors.  Menachem Z. Rosensaft, founding chairman of the International Network of the Children of Jewish survivors, published a book earlier this year that brings together the reflections of children and grandchildren of Jewish Holocaust survivors from around the world. In considering the theme “Choosing to Act,” I knew that Rosensaft’s book, GOD, FAITH AND IDENTITY FROM THE ASHES, would include wisdom from its contributors about the lessons we can learn from the Holocaust that can lead us to action in the here and now. It was inevitable that those expressions would suggest how we can, today, help people all over the world discover and uncover the best of their humanity.
   Rosensaft, the son of survivors of the concentration camps of Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen, was born in May, 1948 in the Displaced Persons camp of Bergen-Belsen in Germany.   He comes by his reflections on the lessons of the Holocaust from a deep personal experience.  He stated in the introduction to his book, “We…have a moral responsibility not to stand idly by…while human beings anywhere in the world are oppressed or persecuted. We have no right to criticize the world for not coming to the aid of our parents and grandparents during the 1930s and 1940s unless we do everything in our power to fight all forms of contemporary racial, religious, or ethnic hatred and to prevent contemporary genocides, whether in Darfur, Rwanda, the former Yugoslavia, or elsewhere. If we learn only one lesson from the cataclysm known as the Holocaust, it must be that the ultimate consequence of silence and indifference to the dire plight of others was embodied forever in the fires of Auschwitz and the mass graves of Bergen‑Belsen.”
    Included in this book was a contribution from Andre Singer, director of the film “Night Will Fall.”  He had extended family who died in the Holocaust, and his Jewish mother was sent in the 1930s from Vienna in Nazi-controlled Austria to the relative safety of London.   Singer focused his reflections on how we deal with difference in our world and why that is crucial to how we choose to act.  He commented: “Many of us take our identity for granted. We are born into it, grow within its cocoon, and have no need to question it. It gives us comfort, protection, and an indelible sense of recognition about where we stand in this tumultuous world and thus how we should behave, not only toward our peers but also towards others whose identity is different.  For many, this is where the trouble starts. It seems an almost universal reaction that the members of one group, one identity, are suspicious of members of another. They may look different, speak differently, eat different food – and believe in different gods. This suspicion can be neutralized by education and familiarity. But sometimes it intensifies into resentment and then hatred, and when accompanied by power and brutality, into acts of barbarism that change the course of history….[However] if I have learned one lesson from this intense involvement in the experiences of others during the Holocaust, it is that our species has an astonishing spiritual resilience in adversity.”
    Clarence Schwab had one grandfather who was saved by a fellow prisoner from a death march in Germany in 1945 which led to his liberation by the British.  Schwab’s other grandfather was caught in Stockholm while doing business there in 1940 when the Soviets invaded Latvia.  He brought his family from Latvia to Sweden, and he supported rescue efforts during the war that involved the celebrated and tireless work of Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg.  Schwab piece in Rosensaft’s collection offered this wisdom from his experience as the grandchild of survivors: “What matters most, I tell my children, is not someone's appearance, or intelligence, or strength, or wealth, but whether, when presented with an opportunity to do so, that person helps another in time of need-even or especially at personal cost or risk.”
   Rabbi Moshe Waldoks, whose survivor parents met in a displaced persons camp near Munich, wrote in Rosensaft’s book about the challenge of dealing with the role of God at that dark time. “All too often the question "Where was God [during the Holocaust]?" is asked of rab­bis by so many to justify their loss of faith. This is a red herring. In effect, you want to know why the God you didn't believe in didn't reveal itself during the Shoah. The tragedy of the Holocaust is pre­cisely not in the Divine realm, but rather in the failure of human beings to behave in the image of God.”
    Rabbi Judith Schindler’s grandparents, father and aunt were separated for a time when her grandfather had to leave Germany when the Nazi’s sought his arrest as an enemy of the state.  They were all finally able to leave Germany by mid-1938, reuniting in Switzerland and immigrating to the United States.  Judith’s father, Alexander Schindler,  completed high school in America and then served in the United States Army’s Tenth Mountain Division and fought Hitler’s forces in World War II.  He was wounded in Italy, earning a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star.  Alexander Schindler eventually was ordained as a Reform Rabbi and, for 23 years, he served as president of the Reform Jewish movement of which I am a part.   Rabbi Judith Schindler was profoundly influenced by her family’s experiences. In her entry in Rosensaft’s anthology, she explained,  “My grandfather's voice calls to me, saying, ‘Never be complacent. Be vigilant about hatred. Speak out against injustice, no matter what the cost.’ When I hear of rhetoric or legislation built upon racism, anti-Semitism, homophobia, Islamophobia, xenophobia, or any other bigotry, I cannot be silent. Even in the face of those who seek to intimidate and threaten me, my past enjoins me to act. My grandfather's voice does not allow me to look the other way when inequities permeate our society and prejudiced voices echo in the air. Acting with moral courage is the message I teach, preach, and aspire to fulfill.  The call of our biblical prophets such as Amos to bring righteousness and justice to the world is a primary Jewish legacy I choose to embrace. My role as a rabbi is to comfort the disturbed, to disturb the comfortable, and to bring God's vision for justice to the world.  The Holocaust taught us that human good is not a given. Free will demands that when free will fails humanity, we must act.”
    Judith Schindler explained that choosing to act is beneficial not only to those who are oppressed, but also to those who believe that oppression is their only choice.  Quoting 20th Century Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, she offered this exhortation to take on a new perspective: “In calling upon us to shatter the walls of segregation [at the height of the civil rights movement], Rabbi Heschel wrote, ‘The tragedy of Pharaoh was the failure to realize that the Exodus from slavery could have spelled redemption for both Israel and Egypt. Would that Pharaoh and the Egyptians had joined the Israelites in the desert and together stood at the foot of Sinai!’  Heschel teaches us that oppression of any people is oppressive not only to the victim but also to the oppressor and the bystander. It stains our souls, constrains our spirituality, and destroys our sense of peace.”
   I will conclude my words in a few moments with a poem by Chanah Senesh, who left her native Hungary in the 1930s to live in the British Mandate of Palestine, joining other Jews there to build a new society in relative freedom.  However, when the opportunity came to attempt to rescue Jews in Hungary, including her mother, she jumped at the chance to join a parachutist unit which would work behind Nazi lines.  Senesh was captured, tortured and put to death by the Nazis at the age of 23.  I have been telling that story for years, but I didn’t expect that to see an entry in Rosensaft’s book from Chanah Senesh’s nephew, David Senesh.  He told of being an Israeli soldier in the 1973 October War between Israel, Egypt and Syria which is known as the Yom Kippur War.   The younger Senesh was captured near the Suez Canal and taken to a prison in Cairo, where he experienced brutal treatment.  He spoke of the strong connection he felt to his courageous aunt as he endured his own challenges:  “In October 1973, I felt myself, like Chanah , to be in the midst of a deadly vortex. There was no way of knowing who would survive that dreadful Yom Kippur and who would perish, who would die by water and who by fire, who by bullet and who by shrapnel, who by wound and who by imprisonment. Chanah 's story ended all too prematurely and tragically. She joined a small group of youngsters in Palestine who volunteered to go on a mission conceived by the Haganah and the British army to cross enemy lines into Nazi-occupied Europe. Chanah 's plan was to go back to Hungary to organize and attempt to rescue the Jews there. However, in March 1943, after Chanah  and the others had parachuted into Yugoslavia, Hungary was invaded by Germany. Against all odds, Chanah  nevertheless continued her mission but was immediately captured upon crossing the border. Tortured by the Gestapo, she refused to talk even when her interrogators confronted her with her mother, my grandmother, to make her cooperate and disclose classified military information.”   David Senesh is now a psychotherapist who works with people who have faced trauma  so that they can heal, recover their own humanity and tell their own story.
     We can choose to act out of a sense of solidarity with all people, seeing in them a spark of God, that divine image that calls us to reach out to our fellow human beings in a spirit of decency, cooperation, respect, support, and, finally, love.    In his contribution to  Rosensaft’s book, Rabbi Abie Ingber quoted one of his teachers, well known singer-songrwriter Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, who once said, “, "If I had two hearts like I have two legs and two arms, I could love with one and hate with the other, but God gave me just one heart and I choose to use it for love."
    As the flames of memory that were lit earlier continue to burn before our eyes, let us hold in our hearts all of those who were put to death because one leader and his followers begrudged them their humanity and existence.  We can act now on behalf of those today who have no one to save them and thereby, in some small way, redeem the memory of those who died 70 years ago and before.   The fire that we light in our hearts can lead to goodness, love and peace and preserve inside each of us a sense of renewal and optimism that can spring eternal.   Here is Chanah Senesh’s timeless poem that can accompany the flickering of the candles before us:
“Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.
Blessed is the heart with the strength to stop its beating for honor’s sake.
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.”  
     For the memory of those who died, for the courage of those who lived and taught us to reach our highest potential for goodness, may we choose to act so that more and more people in our world will know acceptance, fellowship and freedom.  This task is now ours – and may we do it with honor, with courage, with strength and with hope. 

Friday, April 10, 2015

Freedom, Love, and Understanding - Last night of Passover - April 10, 2015

“In every generation, we should see ourselves as if we went free from Egypt.”   1800 years ago, the rabbis summarized the message of Passover in that one phrase.  You have probably heard of the 30 minute Passover Haggadah or even a 10 minute Haggadah online.  If there was one statement that I would pick from the entire Seder as a 30 second Haggadah, it would be that guiding principle about remembering the experience of slavery.  Passover requires that we have enough compassion for those facing persecution and oppression that we will offer our help and support to win for them respect and freedom.   Passover’s rituals, both the Seder and the week-long change in our diet, can lead us to live the values embodied in this time of our liberation.  One of the new Haggadot of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, Sharing the Journey, features this quote from Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel that echoes and expands on the ancient teaching of the rabbis:  “Freedom means more than mere emancipation. Freedom presupposes the capacity for sacrifice….The glory of a free society lies not only in the consciousness of my right to be free, and in my capacity to be free, but also in the realization of my fellow human being’s right to be free, and his or her capacity to be free.  The issue we face is how to save humanity’s belief in our capacity to be free.”
    One place where Jews have worked for freedom with a great measure of success is the United States.  The Jewish community in the colonies and in the United States of America paved the way for freedom of people of many faiths. Jonas Phillips, a leader of the Philadelphia congregation Mikveh Israel, wrote to the Constitutional Convention in 1787 to ask that the end-product of their deliberations not require citizens to swear a Christian oath in order to hold public office. His request may have been a factor in the inclusion of the “no religious test” clause in the Constitution.  Moses Seixas of the Newport, Rhode Island Congregation Yeshuat
Israel spoke with gratitude to President George Washington in 1790, proclaiming that Jews lived in a nation which gave “to bigotry, no sanction, to persecution no assistance.”  President Washington echoed that sentiment in his reply, noting that people living in this country need only show themselves to be good citizens, regardless of their faith, a theme that he expressed to a variety of religious groups at the time.   All of the right sentiments were there for Washington, James Madison, and Thomas Jefferson about equal rights and citizenship for people of all faiths,.   However, in a letter to American Jewish leader Mordecai Manuel Noah in 1818, Thomas Jefferson lamented that saying all of the right words didn’t necessarily dispel bigotry or grant equality in practice.   His statement still applies today: “Your sect by its sufferings has furnished a remarkable proof of the universal spirit of religious intolerance inherent in every sect, disclaimed by all while feeble, and practiced by all when in power. Our laws have applied the only antidote to this vice, protecting our religious, as they do our civil rights, by putting all on an equal footing. But more remains to be done, for although we are free by the law, we are not so in practice….The prejudice still scowling on your section of our religion altho' the elder one, cannot be unfelt by ourselves. It is to be hoped that individual dispositions will at length mould themselves to the model of the law, and consider the moral basis, on which all our religions rest, as the rallying point which unites them in a common interest.”    For Jefferson, the underlying principle of American life was that members of all faith groups look hard for the values that could bring them together.   He was calling on adherents of different religions to draw circles of inclusion and bridges that could foster dialogue and common action.   That is what it meant to this founder of our nation to be an American.   It is fortunate that such rights and equality were eventually accorded to former slaves as well.
    As we conclude our observance of Passover, our festival of freedom, it is fascinating to hear echoes of our celebration in the words of our nation’s founders.  George Washington wrote in 1790 to the Hebrew Congregation of Savannah, Georgia: “May the same wonder-working Deity, who long since delivering the Hebrews from their Egyptian Oppressors planted them in the promised land—whose providential agency has lately been conspicuous in establishing these United States as an independent nation—still continue to water them with the dews of Heaven.”   That was Washington’s wish and blessing not only for the Jews of Savannah, but for all citizens in that young United States.
     The Torah reading for the 8th day of Pesach comes from Deuteronomy Chapter 16, which was likely set in writing six hundred years after the time of the Exodus.  Already distanced from the events described in other passages, this section referred to the Passover sacrifice and the eating of Matzah as essential to the observance of the festival of freedom.   It established one central place for worship, a reference to the Temple in Jerusalem, as the solitary site for all to gather to mark Passover together as one people.   Today, I believe we need to see that phrase that referred to the Temple in a different light.  “At the place where the Eternal One, your God, will choose to establish the divine name” could mean anywhere where we allow God in or any place where we feel God’s presence. At every moment, in every pursuit of our lives, a sense of God’s Oneness that unites us all can lead us to work for the promise of freedom embodied in our celebration of Passover. 
    Thomas Jefferson’s words, unfortunately, ring true about the persistence of prejudice, bigotry and hatred experienced by people because of their faith identity.  Some may call the attacks against Jewish stores, community centers, and synagogues in Europe political, but there is also a component of anti-Judaism that is inherent in those acts, the latest of those being yesterday’s vandalism at a Kosher delicatessen in Copenhagen.  Heschel’s call to seek freedom for all people seemed to escape the Iowa state legislators who refused to hear the invocation of the leader of a neo-Pagan group this week because she was not Christian. Some turned their backs to her as she spoke. Biblical statements about sorcery and magic do not and should not apply to modern Wiccan groups that see all creation as a unity as do believers in other religions.  The recent attack by the Al Shahab extremist group that left over 140 people dead at Garissa University College in Kenya demonstrates the persistence of hatred based only on outside identity.  The terrorists allowed Muslims to leave the premises, while Christians became their only victims.   The Islamic State continues its rampage throughout the Middle East with no respect for fellow Muslims or Christians and no regard for revered holy sites and ancient treasures.  For them, faith gives license to destroy rather than providing a reason to engage in conversation and live side by side.  
     “The place where God will choose for the divine name to dwell” needs to be in our hearts, which should not be hardened like the heart of Pharaoh. The image of ninth plague of darkness is one that can characterize our attitudes towards our fellow human beings.  Only the Israelite homes had light during the plague of darkness.   The people who had experienced oppression, persecution and cruelty were the ones whose hearts were open and who saw and valued the light of freedom enough to hope to receive it as a gift that would not be taken for granted. 
     The rabbis assigned the Song of Songs as the scroll to be read on Passover because of its expressions related to the renewal that comes in spring.  I believe that there is one more reason.    The rabbis saw that book as a “love song” between God and the people of Israel. As we recite poetry from this ancient biblical text, we can extend that love to encompass all of humanity.   Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. often referred to the power of love to root out hatred and bigotry.  He said,  "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."  King also declared: "Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend."  Love is powerful when people of all faiths fulfill Thomas Jefferson’s charge to look for what can unite them in common cause.
     So may we support efforts at productive dialogue that can turn difference into a reason to learn rather than a cause for hatred.   May we offer our assistance to causes and organizations that enable people all over the world and in our own country to enjoy the freedom that has been granted to them as citizens and community members.  And may the spirit of Passover persist throughout the year, guiding us to remember from whence we came so that we can take humanity to new heights of liberty, mutual understanding and respect.