Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.
YOM HAHSHOAH
The German Jewish Political Theorist, Hannah Arendt (1906-1975), wrote during the trial of Adolph Eichmann in Israel: “It was as though in those last minutes he (Eichmann) was summing up the lessons that this long course in human wickedness had taught us – the lesson of the fearsome, word-and-thought-defying banality of evil.” Perhaps she actually compacted into one sentence the sum total of what the Holocaust was and remains in most memories until this very moment in time. Will that be the legacy that will be inherited by the future generations of the unconcerned?
Much has been said, written, and depicted about the Holocaust. We continually say that we can never fully describe the death and destruction because to some it was just as Eichmann thought, an incidental happening, something that was not out of the ordinary. It is this kind of evil that trivializes, and even glamorizes murder on such a large scale.
And yet, here we are, commemorating the anniversary of such an atrocity. Human minds can’t fully comprehend the mindless torture of people because we want to forget. We mark the day with solemn utterances and, in Israel, the sirens sound and the shrillness of that cadence gives us time to reflect. But then, once the siren has ended its call to remembrance, we continue with everyday living.
That exercise of continuity doesn’t diminish the loss but rather enables us to continue with life because that is the essence of their sacrifice. We cannot just die but rather live to not only remember but to inform and remind. This is our solemn obligation and its fulfillment destroys the Eichmann’s of the world as they attempt to minimize and even deny the actuality of the horror.
Today we are witnessing a return to the civilized becoming the beasts. The Haman of today sits in a corner of the world that gave birth to civilization as we know it and displays a disdain for the very enlightenment that elevated us from the depths of depravity to the heights of morality. How is this possible?
The answer can be found in one word: Indifference. The world does not want to concentrate on such iniquity. Life is too short to focus on bad things. Therefore people of good will ignore the hurt and settle on ignoring the truth. It is a sad commentary about society and could even be a motivation for attempting a repeat of such cruelty and dehumanization.
Golda Meir was quoted as saying: “There is no difference between one’s killing and making decisions that will send others to kill. It’s exactly the same thing, or even worse.” Denying truth and even ignoring it, to me, is tantamount to participating in the deed. Turning a blind eye to tragedy makes us accomplices.
The Holocaust will remain a symbol of man’s inhumanity to man for eternity. The remembrance of the Holocaust will ensure that future generations will understand the darkness that enveloped the Earth and the depths to which we are capable of descending. We have met Satan and Satan is us!
How can this chapter ever be closed? There will never be closure because that would desecrate the memory of those who perished, who have no one to remember their existence. We are committed to immortalizing their memories so that their souls will remain bound up in a common bond of weeping that will forever be heard around the world and beyond.
YOM HAZIKARON/HA'ATZMAUT
We learn in Pesikta Buber: “He who defends Israel is uplifted by God.”
The sacrifices made by the men and women who serve in the Israel military are doing just that. Make no mistake – the survival of the Jewish People rests with the brave defenders of the land. Each and every Israeli understands that to lose one war is equivalent to losing it all. Each day they are thrust into harm’s way because of the dangers that exist is their corner of the world.
I have seen their dedication and devotion. I have seen their willingness to put their lives on the line to continue the dream that was dormant for so many millennia and was realized in our time. They dream and they laugh and they love and at the same time understand that to be able to do all these things requires vigilance and determination.
Their zeal is recognized by their countrymen each year as a time devoted to the memory of those who have fallen in their defense. It is the ultimate gesture of gratitude.
And as Golda Meir also said:”We Jews have a secret weapon in our struggle with the Arabs: we have no place to go.” Each and every man woman and child understand this and therefore is ready and willing to give their utmost to the country carved out of a barren wasteland and formed into a thriving re-birth of a People.
Immediately following this solemn moment we rejoice in our renewal. The longing of the ages has been fulfilled. We are home. We are in Eretz Yisrael. The land of our deliverance and redemption.
David Ben Gurion was fond of saying the State of Israel will prove itself not by material wealth, not by military might or technical achievement, but by its moral character and human values. Idealism at its best. But the reality is that Israel has done all these things and more.
Israel has shown the world that its determination and fortitude enabled it to grow and flourish and enhance the life of all humanity through its technological achievements and its military prowess. It has helped the world understand that contributions to science and industry have advanced life giving us the ability to reap the rewards of God’s benevolence. The People of Israel did and continue to do all that even as it lives through danger from outside forces.
Perhaps the words of Chaim Potok summarizes the aspirations of a People who have survived untold tragedies and unimaginable horrors: “My father often spoke in military terms: the Jews were the vanguard of mankind, the reconnaissance troops, and therefore prone to taking the highest casualties. But we would succeed one day in establishing the Kingdom of God on earth. Of that he had no doubt.”
Friday, April 9, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
A Friend To Those Who Need A Friend
Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.
Going through many books and writings over the years, I am sometimes drawn to articles relating to the life of a Rabbi in a congregational setting. It is quite different than being a Rabbi in an educational environment or involved in social service efforts such as I have been most of my career.
It takes a certain kind of ability to attempt to commit to the daily tasks of caring and sharing which is the hallmark of everyday commitments to a myriad of people with differing views about religion and how these traditions, customs and laws are to be observed, or not, depending on your point of view and upbringing. To say that there are times when issues arise that boggle the imagination would not do justice to the actual involvement whether individually or collectively.
There really are no exceptions. In fact, it is even more difficult in a retirement community, given that many come from all walks of life and locations. Living in such a community brings together people with differing understandings of faith and observance. It is the blending of all these factions that make it an interesting exercise to find common ground.
Recently I read an article written by Rabbi Josh Yuter, a traditional colleague who attempted to delineate the different aspects of Rabbinic performance. He writes that the greatest challenge a Rabbi faces is distinguishing a balance between his professional life and his personal life.
Perhaps that is the most difficult thing to do. We certainly are no different than the average person in that we look forward to the comfort and joy of home life and the ability to separate the professional from the personal. Most of you, I am sure, have attempted to do this is varying ways, but inevitably the two seem to clash. We are hard pressed to consider our work and the release from that tension as we settle in to the life of a husband or father or mentor.
Our instinct is to be friends with everybody because we want peace and harmony to be the order of the day. Some people become closer friends and some a little distant. That is only natural. We cannot be close friends with everybody. Even in our home environment we are closer to some of our children or grandchildren, not because we love one more than the other, but rather because we gravitate to some more than others. It is the same with friends and neighbors.
Rabbis also find themselves without personal lives because of their dedication. We cannot say to someone who calls in the middle of the night hurting and in need of spiritual guidance: “ We are off duty now. Take two aspirins and call us in the morning.” Or have our phone answered with a message that says, “If this is an emergency hang-up and dial 911.” Sound familiar?
What I am trying to impart is that sometimes people perceive things that don’t really exist. Sometimes we Rabbis are used for convenience by people in order to promote themselves. Sometimes we need to look deeper than the surface to really understand the Rabbi’s role and how important it is for him to be available to everyone regardless of their station or likes and dislikes.
Rabbis normally do not toot their own horns and, in many cases, are reluctant to even speak for themselves in order for it not to appear self-serving. That is probably a flaw in the system, but it is there never-the-less. In fact it reminds me a famous writing in Midrash Rabbah:
“They say to fruit trees: “Why do you not make any noise.” The trees reply: “Our fruit is sufficient publicity for us.”
A Rabbi is a friend to those who have no friends and certainly a friend to those who want to be friends. Because he knows, as a Hasidic folk saying goes: “If you are looking for a friend who has no faults, you will have no friends.”
Something to think about!
Going through many books and writings over the years, I am sometimes drawn to articles relating to the life of a Rabbi in a congregational setting. It is quite different than being a Rabbi in an educational environment or involved in social service efforts such as I have been most of my career.
It takes a certain kind of ability to attempt to commit to the daily tasks of caring and sharing which is the hallmark of everyday commitments to a myriad of people with differing views about religion and how these traditions, customs and laws are to be observed, or not, depending on your point of view and upbringing. To say that there are times when issues arise that boggle the imagination would not do justice to the actual involvement whether individually or collectively.
There really are no exceptions. In fact, it is even more difficult in a retirement community, given that many come from all walks of life and locations. Living in such a community brings together people with differing understandings of faith and observance. It is the blending of all these factions that make it an interesting exercise to find common ground.
Recently I read an article written by Rabbi Josh Yuter, a traditional colleague who attempted to delineate the different aspects of Rabbinic performance. He writes that the greatest challenge a Rabbi faces is distinguishing a balance between his professional life and his personal life.
Perhaps that is the most difficult thing to do. We certainly are no different than the average person in that we look forward to the comfort and joy of home life and the ability to separate the professional from the personal. Most of you, I am sure, have attempted to do this is varying ways, but inevitably the two seem to clash. We are hard pressed to consider our work and the release from that tension as we settle in to the life of a husband or father or mentor.
Our instinct is to be friends with everybody because we want peace and harmony to be the order of the day. Some people become closer friends and some a little distant. That is only natural. We cannot be close friends with everybody. Even in our home environment we are closer to some of our children or grandchildren, not because we love one more than the other, but rather because we gravitate to some more than others. It is the same with friends and neighbors.
Rabbis also find themselves without personal lives because of their dedication. We cannot say to someone who calls in the middle of the night hurting and in need of spiritual guidance: “ We are off duty now. Take two aspirins and call us in the morning.” Or have our phone answered with a message that says, “If this is an emergency hang-up and dial 911.” Sound familiar?
What I am trying to impart is that sometimes people perceive things that don’t really exist. Sometimes we Rabbis are used for convenience by people in order to promote themselves. Sometimes we need to look deeper than the surface to really understand the Rabbi’s role and how important it is for him to be available to everyone regardless of their station or likes and dislikes.
Rabbis normally do not toot their own horns and, in many cases, are reluctant to even speak for themselves in order for it not to appear self-serving. That is probably a flaw in the system, but it is there never-the-less. In fact it reminds me a famous writing in Midrash Rabbah:
“They say to fruit trees: “Why do you not make any noise.” The trees reply: “Our fruit is sufficient publicity for us.”
A Rabbi is a friend to those who have no friends and certainly a friend to those who want to be friends. Because he knows, as a Hasidic folk saying goes: “If you are looking for a friend who has no faults, you will have no friends.”
Something to think about!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
More Passover Thoughts
Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.
The month of March (Nissan) brings with it springtime. It is a beautiful season of the year. Trees begin waking from their winter sleep, flowers start to bloom and the tilt of the Earth in the northern hemisphere brings warmth. Even the birds start singing for they too know that nature is coming alive. It is a time of renewal. Passover occurs at this time of the year.
Redemption, the ultimate definition of the holiday, is commemorated with a festive meal called the Seder. This annual ritual, the re-telling of the Exodus from slavery and bondage to freedom and salvation, expresses the feelings and aspirations of people throughout history, as we attempt to determine our future and reach out to meet our destiny. We become a people whose primary responsibility includes understanding and sharing the Revelation experienced at Sinai.
We are told about this tremendous encounter with depictions of thunder and lightening and majestic splendor as God endeavors to connect with us and solidify the Covenant made with our ancestors. The words that were uttered and speak to all of us even today are reminders of this special relationship and the obligations inherent in this bond.
The Exodus was preceded by episodes that really boggle the imagination. From the blood in the Nile to the destruction of Pharaohs army, the narrative explains, in great detail, the occurrences that led to the ultimate determination of man’s yearnings for equality and purpose.
At Sinai we reached the hour of fulfillment. Not only were we liberated but we knew, at that moment, the reason for our being. We understood that life without reason has no meaning. We witnessed the value of creation and our part in the process. We realized that by escaping tyranny we were obligated to prevent the distortion of God’s will and to acknowledge the existence of God and the significance of being witnesses to God’s grandeur.
The Ten Commandments, the final part of the drama, instructs us about duty to God and duty to each other. The first five Commandments are designed to teach us respect and love of God and the last five are dedicated to our relationship with one another. The lesson is rather simple: You cannot claim to be lovers of God or profess to believe in God and at the same time loathe each other. You can’t be Godlike and be hateful to another human being also created by this same God.
The Ten Commandments are also written in the singular. The message is profound and is explained in great detail by the Ramban in his Torah commentary. He writes that each of us is responsible for our words and deeds. We cannot care for each other if we are not willing to hold ourselves accountable for our conduct and we must be willing to accept the consequences.
The observance of Passover also includes many religious customs and laws. For example: We are prohibited from eating anything containing leaven because we need to remember that cleansing ourselves of the old is a prerequisite to accepting things that are new. We can’t start a new life if we hold onto the old one and make no room for growth and development. Leaving Egypt in a hurry was a clear indication that the people were ready to shed the old and begin the new.
We continually read the story of our deliverance because it is essential that we remain aware of our past in order to continue to build a future. It also helps us realize that to move forward we have to break the shackles of domination that kept us bent over, unable to stand erect. We experienced not only physical distress but emotional submission and that dragged us even further into the abyss with no sign of escape.
All these expressions are brought together in one grand moment called Passover. We rejoice and we remember but we are also saddened by events that shaped our destiny which required untold sacrifices. However, we understand that sometimes we must go through ordeals in order to achieve fulfillment. And as the rabbis have taught us, we don’t gloat over the misfortune of others while rejoicing in our emancipation.
Perhaps the wishes and desires for a world of togetherness and gratefulness and appreciation can best be summed up in an essay written by Rev. Dr.Herbert Brokering, a Christian minister:
Lord, give us tomorrow.
Give us
Spring at the end of winter,
Love at the end of strife,
Peace at the end of war, and
A home at the end of the exile.
Give us
Rain to end draught,
A song to end the sorrow
A harvest to end the hunger
Send fruit after the pruning.
Send tomorrow
With its feel of the softness of soil,
The grease of engines,
The splatter of paint,
The sound of music,
The joy of debate, and
The calmness of forgiveness.
Give us tomorrow
And its new work,
New smell,
New touch,
New thoughts
New hopes.
Lord,
Tomorrow
Give us a new day.
Isn’t this what Passover is all about? Isn’t this the dream of all humanity as expressed by Passover in so many ways? Yes, these are my thoughts at Passover. Passover miracles, as I wrote about previously, can also be found in the asking and the giving and the receiving.
The month of March (Nissan) brings with it springtime. It is a beautiful season of the year. Trees begin waking from their winter sleep, flowers start to bloom and the tilt of the Earth in the northern hemisphere brings warmth. Even the birds start singing for they too know that nature is coming alive. It is a time of renewal. Passover occurs at this time of the year.
Redemption, the ultimate definition of the holiday, is commemorated with a festive meal called the Seder. This annual ritual, the re-telling of the Exodus from slavery and bondage to freedom and salvation, expresses the feelings and aspirations of people throughout history, as we attempt to determine our future and reach out to meet our destiny. We become a people whose primary responsibility includes understanding and sharing the Revelation experienced at Sinai.
We are told about this tremendous encounter with depictions of thunder and lightening and majestic splendor as God endeavors to connect with us and solidify the Covenant made with our ancestors. The words that were uttered and speak to all of us even today are reminders of this special relationship and the obligations inherent in this bond.
The Exodus was preceded by episodes that really boggle the imagination. From the blood in the Nile to the destruction of Pharaohs army, the narrative explains, in great detail, the occurrences that led to the ultimate determination of man’s yearnings for equality and purpose.
At Sinai we reached the hour of fulfillment. Not only were we liberated but we knew, at that moment, the reason for our being. We understood that life without reason has no meaning. We witnessed the value of creation and our part in the process. We realized that by escaping tyranny we were obligated to prevent the distortion of God’s will and to acknowledge the existence of God and the significance of being witnesses to God’s grandeur.
The Ten Commandments, the final part of the drama, instructs us about duty to God and duty to each other. The first five Commandments are designed to teach us respect and love of God and the last five are dedicated to our relationship with one another. The lesson is rather simple: You cannot claim to be lovers of God or profess to believe in God and at the same time loathe each other. You can’t be Godlike and be hateful to another human being also created by this same God.
The Ten Commandments are also written in the singular. The message is profound and is explained in great detail by the Ramban in his Torah commentary. He writes that each of us is responsible for our words and deeds. We cannot care for each other if we are not willing to hold ourselves accountable for our conduct and we must be willing to accept the consequences.
The observance of Passover also includes many religious customs and laws. For example: We are prohibited from eating anything containing leaven because we need to remember that cleansing ourselves of the old is a prerequisite to accepting things that are new. We can’t start a new life if we hold onto the old one and make no room for growth and development. Leaving Egypt in a hurry was a clear indication that the people were ready to shed the old and begin the new.
We continually read the story of our deliverance because it is essential that we remain aware of our past in order to continue to build a future. It also helps us realize that to move forward we have to break the shackles of domination that kept us bent over, unable to stand erect. We experienced not only physical distress but emotional submission and that dragged us even further into the abyss with no sign of escape.
All these expressions are brought together in one grand moment called Passover. We rejoice and we remember but we are also saddened by events that shaped our destiny which required untold sacrifices. However, we understand that sometimes we must go through ordeals in order to achieve fulfillment. And as the rabbis have taught us, we don’t gloat over the misfortune of others while rejoicing in our emancipation.
Perhaps the wishes and desires for a world of togetherness and gratefulness and appreciation can best be summed up in an essay written by Rev. Dr.Herbert Brokering, a Christian minister:
Lord, give us tomorrow.
Give us
Spring at the end of winter,
Love at the end of strife,
Peace at the end of war, and
A home at the end of the exile.
Give us
Rain to end draught,
A song to end the sorrow
A harvest to end the hunger
Send fruit after the pruning.
Send tomorrow
With its feel of the softness of soil,
The grease of engines,
The splatter of paint,
The sound of music,
The joy of debate, and
The calmness of forgiveness.
Give us tomorrow
And its new work,
New smell,
New touch,
New thoughts
New hopes.
Lord,
Tomorrow
Give us a new day.
Isn’t this what Passover is all about? Isn’t this the dream of all humanity as expressed by Passover in so many ways? Yes, these are my thoughts at Passover. Passover miracles, as I wrote about previously, can also be found in the asking and the giving and the receiving.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)