'What we do matters': Holocaust Remembrance Day in Cranford, NJ -- Spring 2018

Thank you Pastor Tom Rice for your thoughtful introduction.

Mayor Hannen, Superintendent Rubin, Chief Greco…

To all of you, the Cranford community, first a thank you, thank you for welcoming us to Cranford six months ago.

The community has reached out to us in friendship, with support, and caring from the beginning, and so it is clear that there is already in our town the knowledge that what you do matters.

What wedo matters.

But we cannot take it for granted that we will always feel motivated to act, to do what is right.

We cannot take it for granted that we will know what to do if and when we decide to act.

2,000 years ago, a Rabbi named Hillel shared a piece of wisdom in my tradition that continues to live and light a fire for us, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?  But if I am only for myself, what am I?  And if not now, when?

If not now, then when?  

There are many special days we observe throughout the year when we say, “If not now, when?”  On July 4^thwe remember courageous deeds of our ancestors in determining the freedom and future of our country.  On Veterans Day and on Memorial day we honor the service and sacrifice of our soldiers.  On each of these days, we rededicate ourselves to meaningful action to carry forward our hard won freedoms, at the very least, not to take our freedom for granted.

We can legitimately choose at times to be harmlessinstead of being helpful.

But the lessons of Holocaust remembrance that we take from today, from survivors like Mollie Sperling, is that there are times when we must act decisively.  As we know, when dark forces spread, when the Nazi occupation in Europe spread over the continent, the people who tried to be harm-less were also burned by the fires of hate.

As an example of this, one day you may have occasion to visit Berlin, and you will see there in the center of a plaza, the Bebelplatz, the Empty Library Memorial, an underground memorial installation that is visible through a glass pane in the ground, it’s a room of empty bookshelves in remembrance of the Nazi burning of some 20,000 books written by Jews, Communists, and pacifists, on May 10, 1933 85 years ago.  

Inscribed there is a phrase written by Heinrich Heine, “Where they have burned books, they will end in burning human beings.”

Perhaps if some had doused the fire on the books, Heine’s prophecy would not have been so tragically fulfilled.

To spur us to action we need inspiration!

Who are our action heroes?

Who are our action role models?

The Avengers?  The Justice League? Our teachers in school?  Our clergy?  Town leadership?

One of my action heroes was Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of the many faith leaders who joined Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on the march from Selma, Alabama to Montgomery on March 21, 1965.  In reflecting on that day he wrote, “For many of us the march…was about protest and prayer.  Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling.  And yet our legs uttered songs.  Even without words, our march was worship.  I felt my legs were praying.”

100 years before that, the great Frederick Douglass, an escaped slave who became one a leader of the abolitionist movement, made his escape from slavery at age 20 and he said, “I prayed for freedom for twenty years, but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.”

Prayer is good and important.  Prayer brings insight and awareness.

And then we must act.

Because what we do matters.

But how do we act when the odds are against us, when there’s no partner with whom to have a dialogue, when enemies of humanity like the Nazis looked upon Jews, Gypsies, Homosexuals, political opponents, Polish Catholic priests, when they look upon us as something less than human?

When Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke on the evening of April 3, 1968 in Memphis, he knew the civil rights movement was still confronting great odds, significant resistance – that night, the night before he was assassinated he said:

“And another reason that I'm happy to live in this period is that we have been forced to a point where we are going to have to grapple with the problems that men have been trying to grapple with through history, but the demands didn't force them to do it. Survival demands that we grapple with them. Men, for years now, have been talking about war and peace. But now, no longer can they just talk about it. It is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world; it's nonviolence or nonexistence. That is where we are today.”

Dr. King argued there was no other choice but to pursue justice because, as he also said, if any people are enslaved, then we all are.  Violence against one person, against one people, impacts everyone.

And the reverse is true as well – in my tradition we say one mitzvah leads to another, mitzvah goreret mitzvah, meaning one good deed to one person leads to so many more.

We know how Ray Allen[1]asks just this question.  In an interview, he was asked about whether he would take action to save others as many did during the Holocaust years, he says, “I would like to think that I was – that I would be that courageous….[and] that is I think the ultimate question that we live with every day…are we willing to fight for the next person when it doesn’t benefit us?”

Ray Allen asks an ultimate question about our theme today, what we do matters, and that question is whether we’re willing to act when we do not expect anything in return, or when the primary goal of what we’re doing may only benefit us indirectly.

Of course, if you remember from a few moments ago, the great Rabbi Hillel teach us, If I am not for myself who will be for me?  But …if I am only for myself, what am I?

We ask these questions looking back on the 20^thcentury, when across the world there were some 27 genocides by the United Nations definition.  And now, into the 21^st, at least 2 more tragically to add – South Sudan and the Rohingya in Myanmar.

In the face of such tragedy and loss, we might feel stuck, glued to our seats, wondering just what could each of us individually, or even us as a group, do in response to such hatred and pain?

I found inspiration for this dilemma in the immortal words of Anne Frank’s diary, Anne Frank, the young woman in Holland who wrote a diary during her time in hiding with her family in Amsterdam.

Anne Frank writes in 1944, dreaming about what she will do if she survives, “If God lets me live…I will make my voice heard.  I will work in the world for mankind.”

What can each of us do to make a difference for just one person, in our schools, in our community, in our world?

For now, in this moment, I’d like to ask everyone to say hello, exchange greetings with the people sitting on either side of us – if it’s family or best friends turn behind you or reach in front of you – one action we can take right now is to get to know each other, to bring ourselves closer as a community.  Take a moment, share greetings! – And we can do this at any time, when we’re walking in downtown Cranford, anytime.

And one more thing we can do -- on your way out this evening, please consider taking one of the yellow Holocaust memorial candles sponsored by the Temple Beth El Mekor Chayim Men’s club and Menorah Chapels at Millburn.  You can light this candle at home tonight in memory of the victims of the Holocaust and victims of other genocides throughout the 20^thand 21^stcenturies.

And let’s always remember, what we do, matters.

---

[1]Ray Allen was an NBA basketball player who continues to be an advocate for Holocaust education.  One of his articles appears here:  https://www.theplayerstribune.com/en-us/articles/ray-allen-why-i-went-to-auschwitz

Passover 2018/5778

For some people, the country – wide open spaces, fewer people about, is their home and most familiar type of place to live, to work, to wander.

For others, the city is their familiar place.  The rhythm of traffic, apartments, and life going on 24 hours a day is their comfort zone. 

It’s the difference between ‘Thank God I’m a country boy’ and ‘A New York state of mind’.

The challenge is we may become so used to one way of living, we could not imagine another.  

The same is true for our ancestors in Egypt – for generations they live and work as slaves, surviving day to day, if they are able to survive at all.  And despite the tales of our Sages that praise our ancestors for their small rebellions against Pharaoh’s control, we can imagine they live in fear – that fear becomes their normal place, slavery their expected fate, and hope – a commodity they dare not contemplate.

And then, God ordains the first Passover, Pesach Mitzrayim – even before we leave Egypt, we observe what becomes the Seder we celebrated last night and again tonight.  In the moments prior to when our ancestors sit down to the meal, once they’ve spread the lamb’s blood on the door, God instructs them, “Do not leave your homes until the morning.”

God promises to protect our ancestors, but at the same time they must stay indoors – literally indoors, not even standing one toe’s length beyond the door frame.  

It appears we are protected but only under specific circumstances.  Like Cinderella, the power of protection has limits – She cannot stay out past midnight, the Israelites must stay inside.

Isaac Abravanel notices this situation – especially the fact that the Israelites are so filled with fear, that despite God’s promise to protect them, they are concerned about staying home.  Abravanel suggests they are worried lest the Egyptians, feeling sore and perhaps vengeful over the 10^thplague, will break into their homes and kill them.

God tells them they are not safe in the street – as Rashi explains, the destruction out in Egypt cannot distinguish between those who are good and those who are evil.  And they feel they are potentially also unsafe in their own homes.

Abravanel explains God offers reassurance by saying the Maschit, the destroyer, will not enter their homes.

But the fear remains.

And this fear arises from their status in Egypt but also because their residences are unknown to them as safe places.  

The country person likely would feel similarly anxious in the city, wondering at the hordes of people and whether it’s safe in an apartment surrounded on all sides by people they may not know unlike their familiar country town.

The city person likely would feel anxious in the wide open country, possibly with no neighbors anywhere close by, no 24/7 stores to retreat to when the night makes unfamiliar sounds.

We find a situation here that is uncomfortable for our ancestors – they are stuck, vulnerable, on edge, ready to leave Egypt but unable to leave yet.  

As reassuring as the Haggadah is – that liberation and redemption were real – our parshah this morning reminds us never to lose that discomfort, that sense of wondering what is next since we just do not know what’s about to happen.  

If we get too comfortable at home, we risk getting used to one way of living and not even wanting to go out.  The ability to stream entertainment and order everything to our homes is very real now for us.

If, on the other hand, we leave home behind, remain wanderers, boldly on our own, relying only on our own strength and own perspectives, then we risk never seeing the world through the eyes of others, gently over time.

Somewhere between the city and country, somewhere between the wilderness and the settled land of Israel is where we will become one people and God’s partner – somewhere in the vulnerable and exposed middle-space where nothing but the invisible God of the Universe speaks is where we discover that freedom and that identity whose name we inherited long before – Yisra’el – the ones who both listen to and challenge God to reveal more truth today than we knew yesterday.

Shabbat 3/17/18 - Three Celebrations in One Day

Today we celebrate three occasions in our Torah service.

We celebrate starting a new book of the Torah – Vayikra, the Book of Leviticus – the book that in traditional communities is the first book of Torah students study.

We celebrate the next of the 4 special Shabbatot before Passover, Shabbat Ha’Chodesh, Shabbat of the New Month – the moment we recognize the beginning of time for our ancestors as they prepare to go free.  The first month is this Month, the Month of Nisan.  When we go free from Egypt, we begin to live on our own calendar.

And today is also Rosh Chodesh Nisan, the first day of the month, the day that our ancestors assembled the Mishkan, the Tabernacle in the wilderness.

And as we prepare for Passover, these three celebrations, these three themes, are the core of the Passover spirit.

Pesach was originally based upon a sacrifice, the sacrifice of a lamb to God to bless the season and the hopefully growing flocks.  Sacrifice and holiness are the centerpieces of Leviticus.

On Rosh Chodesh we recite Hallel as we do at the Seder – Passover is a day of singing out our gratitude to God.

And the calendar is a celebration of freedom – me’avdut l’cherut, we go from slavery to freedom, and we re-experience that journey each year.

It’s the third point that stands out for me today as I’m looking at the variety of Haggadahs available for Passover.

Which Haggadahs do you use?

There are over 1,000 editions of the Haggadah since the first edition of the Haggadah was printed in 1482.

The Escape Velocity Haggadah is one of the most surreal.  Stanley Aaron Lebovic’s artwork is reminiscent of Salvador Dali, and his commentary is a deep personal and mystical reflection.

The title of his Haggadah itself is a reflection on the journey to freedom.  In Lebovic’s words:  Escape Velocity is the speed an object must reach to escape the gravitational pull exerted upon it by another objects, thereby allowing it the possibility of an autonomous existence, unburdened by outside influences and free to soar untethered and unencumbered by the restrictive confines of a subservient orbit.

Lebovic is suggesting here that our people must achieve escape velocity to free ourselves from the confines of Egypt. 

We literally have to spring into action, and into the future.

But there are so many forces that push us in the opposite direction – as we know, every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

For our ancestors, even freedom was not sufficient.  They want to see and interact directly with God, and that’s in party why they create the golden calf.

Now, in Leviticus, as we begin this new book God delivers a subtle and essential lesson.  The only tangibles in our relationship to God are the sacrifices, the korbanot, what we choose to give – ourselves, our energy, our time, our heart and the relationships we build with each other.  It’s ironic that this book that is so little about ancestor stories and families is the place where we find perhaps the most central teaching of the Torah when it comes to relationships ve’ahav’ta l’re’a’cha kamocha, love your fellow human being as yourself.

Rashi explains the book of Leviticus opens with one of the essentials of the Torah, God instructing us to be holy, and then later on love your neighbor – love God, bring holiness into the world, and love one another. 

Our people have to reach escape velocity first though, otherwise they will never be able to go free in order to pursue these goals.

We, on the other hand, can start with them – we seek to love God despite a world around us that is too often violent and chaotic – we mourn with the families of the victims of school violence, of the bridge collapse in Florida.  We seek to bring holiness into the world because we know deep in our hearts that as rough as the world around us may be there are sparks of light within it, that redemption is possible.  And we seek to love one another – at the Seder this year, try and picture that the people sitting next to us are not just family, friends, our guests, but that they are the people walking out of Egypt next to us, and that we are encouraging each other to reach escape velocity – to go free, reach for the stars, and to only remember Egypt as a launching place – when we decided to pursue the dream that were not dependent on any one piece of land on earth.

Shabbat Parah 2018/5778: Reflecting on AIPAC Policy Conference

It was wonderful to join together with fellow TBEMC members at the AIPAC Policy Conference in Washinton this past weekend.

I find the most inspiring stories about Israel that emerge at the conference are the ones that do not make major news headlines.

One story, amongst many, that stand out has a meaningful connection to the special Maftir reading for today, Shabbat Parah, the Shabbat when we remember the ritual of the red cow – sacrificed to create a mixture that had the ability to turn someone ritually pure from their impurity.

Sivan Borowich-Ya’ari is the founder and director of Innovation:  Africa, a not for profit organization that sets up solar water pumping stations in remote African villages, now working in 8 African countries – their work has impacted the lives of 1 million Africans.

They work together with Africans, creating an energy leadership committee within each village where they work – The engineers work together with the villagers so that they can take ownership of the project.  Israeli solar technology enables villages to enjoy fresh water pumped from the ground – They also provide light and refrigeration to schools and medical clinics enabling students to learn and medical personnel to safely store and provide medications.

The fresh spring water pumped into each village gives the village life, strength, and hope.  They can use the water for irrigating crops and so better feed the people.

Our ancestors used the ashes of the red cow, parah adumah, and mixed them with spring water – mayim hayim, spring water. 

For our ancestors, then, spring water enabled the mixture that could give people renewed purity and re-integration with the community after their period of staying apart.

For Africans who’ve benefited from installation of water pumps, they have a new life, and a new and productive relationship to their land.

It is heartening, and inspiring to hear of the many ways that Israeli innovation and commitment to gemilut hasadim have impacted the lives of so many.  We pray that those who aim their hatred toward Israel will soon see how such a small country reaches far beyond its own borders to help earthquake victims in Nepal and Mexico city, victims of natural diasters in Haiti and the Philippines and more. 

Other Israeli innovations that we witnessed at this year’s conference enable better coordination of first responders to emergency situations, protection of aid workers working in zones where there have been nuclear accidents, monitoring of crops and agricultural water usage remotely from devices installed in the soil, methods to maximize and maintain olive and olive oil production in groves shared by Israelis and Palestinians.

The wise King Solomon could not make sense of the ritual of the red heifer that somehow can purify the impure while at the same time making impure the pure. 

The nations of the world looked on this ritual and derided us about it, challenging our faith in this ritual and in our whole system of beliefs.

We know all too well the ways the nations of the world single out Israel for condemnation when many of these nations oppress their own people within their borders, when many of these nations, including the bulk of those who surround Israel, are dictatorships while Israel is a democracy.

It is time for us to know and tell the stories of how Israel is serving as an or la’goyim, a light unto the nations of the world, and to share how the people in Africa, amongst so many other places in the world that have benfited from Israel’s gemilut hasadim and tech innovations, how they so appreciate the caring and support even if they might still be a bit puzzled by our ritual of the red heifer.

Shabbat Zachor 2018/5778: The Parkland, FL Tragedy - How do we remember?

In an old favorite World War 2 movie, actor Eric Stoltz, playing a crewman on a B-17 bomber out of England, reads a poem to his crew-mates as they wait to go up on a mission – I’d like to share just the end of the poem:

I balanced all

Brought all to mind

The years to come seemed a waste of breath

A waste of breath the years behind

In balance with this life

This death

In this poem, an Irish fighter pilot reflects on his fate.

As the poem ends with these words, there is a deep and lasting silence.

It is the same deep and lasting silence of Aaron after God strikes down his 2 sons Nadav & Avihu – Vayidom Aharon, and Aaron was silent.

And it is the same silence, as we continue to reflect and remember, and amidst a flurry of advocacy and lobbying, that surrounds Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida, and Sandy Hook elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut. 

What is the best way to remember?

This Shabbat, Shabbat Zachor – the Shabbat of Memory – asks us this question.

We always read the Maftir reading from the 2^nd Torah on the Shabbat just before Purim.   It is the story of how Amalek, marauders in the wilderness, attack the Isarelites, ambushing the weakest of us first.  Haman from the Purim story….wait, I said Haaayman!...is a descendant of Agag, a latter day King of Amalek.  The attack they launch against our ancestors foreshadows Haman’s planned massacre of the Jews during the days of the Persian empire.

Our maftir reading begins, telling us Remember what Amalek did to you in the wilderness, but then toward the end God instructs us to obliterate the memory of Amalek from under heaven.

These two statements contradict.

And then the final two words are lo tish’kach, do not forget.

How can we eliminate the memory of Amalek but remember what happened at the same time?

Could somehow choose to forget the name while remembering the incident? 

The mind does not work that way – our minds keep everything together.

In Florida, they will tear down building 12 and put up a memorial in its place.  In Connecticut, the new Sandy Hook school opened in 2016 after the prior building was demolished.

In Europe, they preserve the concentration camps as places to witness and learn. 

The teaching of Shabbat Zachor is that we may want to rid the world of places that carry horrible memories, but if we do that in every case – we risk also losing a place of witness, a place that makes us uncomfortable so that we remember whether we want to or not.

We tend to forget easily when we’re not compelled to remember.

That’s what God is concerned about since we will be settled comfortably in the Promised Land, and then the sense of urgency will be gone. 

If only that were the case today.

And so we need to keep alive the sense of urgency.

Especially on this Shabbat as we get ready to celebrate Purim, that remembers a time when Esther stepped in to prevent the violence from happening, and we sing, and we’re silly, we need to continue to re-light the fires of awareness and empathy with the families of Parkland, Florida, Newtown, and all the other places where violence stained otherwise happy places of learning, socializing, and more.

God says, remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, asher k’archa ba’derech, I’d like to thank Art Werschulz for sharing this midrash earlier this week that is especially appropriate today – what happened to you, kar’cha – our Sages in this word heard the word kor, meaning cold, that Amalek took away our excitement and spirit and replaced it with coldness, with doubt and fear.  The Rabbis compare this to one who has a very hot bath set up, so hot that no one even wants to get in, and a nudnik comes along and jumps in, and even though he gets burned, he’s made the water cool enough for others to jump in.

According to Rashi, Amalek did the same thing – they “cooled us down” as it were, made us vulnerable.

And if we are feeling vulnerable, or feeling our kids are vulnerable, then we need to join together in unity, faith, and mutual support so that when a moment of deep and lasting silence comes again, God forbid, we can rise again, rebuild, strengthen ourselves and others, and know we are not alone.