The Disparity between Image and Reality

The well-known phrase, “Let them eat cake . . .” has often but incorrectly attributed to Queen Marie Antoinette. According to French philosopher, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, these words were supposedly said by a great princess who wondered why the French peasants couldn’t eat cake, instead of bread. The quote suggests that the princess was oblivious to the people’s state of poverty. This expression has become the perfect metaphor for leaders who are out of touch with the working class. (I should add that almost in Congress can really and truly honestly identify with the “Average Joe,” since everyone in Congress is a millionaire! Ergo, whenever politicians talk about “power to the people!” always ask yourself, “Which people are they referring to? The Communists have killed scores of millions to bring “power to the people”).

Among the Chinese, there is a similar quote. When a Chinese Emperor was informed that his subjects didn’t have enough rice to eat, the Emperor replied, “So, why don’t they eat meat instead?” In both the French and the Chinese tradition, the point is exactly the same: leaders can ill-afford to act as though everyone else in their country is privy to excellent food. In rabbinic tradition, R. Eleazar ben Azariah said , “If there is no bread, there can be no Torah” (Avoth 3:17). In other words, when people are hungry, they cannot occupy themselves with the higher pursuit of knowledge.

Hungry stomachs yearn for a more basic gastronomical truth.

In my last article, I pointed out the types of excesses we have come to expect from the White House and Congress. Mind you, I really don’t view this as a Democratic issue per se. There has been lots of waste in Congress and the Republicans must take their share of the responsibility in allowing Social Security to become insolvent and potentially bankrupt.

That being said, I expect—no I demand—that Michelle Obama cease going on these lavish vacations at our expense. She is no Marie Antoinette, but she sure acts as though she were the French queen. Ten million dollar vacations are an embarrassment.

If you have trouble accepting that fact, then remember: Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt!

Several months ago, I wrote about the President’s attempt to emulate the Republicans by going on his personal bus tour around the country. Evidently, the President wants everyone to think that he is “one of the people,” and that because of his economic background, “he really ‘understands’ their problems.” Does he really? Had the President decided to go in a Greyhound bus (with the appropriate security), he would at least make his point a little bit more persuasively. However, President Obama decided to go on one very expensive bus—along with many of his staff—on two buses that cost over 2.2 million dollars!

Welcome to President Obama’s new age of austerity.

I forgot to mention that the bus was made in Canada and not in the United States. Well, look at the bright side: At least it wasn’t made in China! How can the President drive around in a bus that was made in Canada and talk about creating more jobs for American? My liberal Jewish friends, I ask you one simple question: Where is the cognitive dissonance here? Is the hypocrisy too painful to admit—much less acknowledge? If I was the Republican candidate, I would tell the government, “Keep your bus, Greyhound is good enough for me . . .”

Now, Talmudically speaking, if President Obama decided to go on an electric bus that used no gas, one that was completely fuel efficient—the President could have made an important point about energy conservation. No, not Mr. Obama! The buses he decided to ride on, only gets 2 miles to the gallon.

Way to go Mr. Obama! You, the French queen and the Chinese Emperor have a lot in common!

I am mentioning this incident to show that regardless who happens to be in the White House, I expect that leader to epitomize austerity and prudence. If after he is elected, Romney decides to act this way—I will be on his case too like white on rice.

The President cannot act like he is a “champion of the people,” while living the lifestyle of the rich and opulent.

I will conclude with a piece of timeless wisdom I wish to draw from the great Hellenistic Age, when Jewish thinkers first began articulating the symbiosis of Greek and Judaic thought. In a famous work known as, “The Letter of Aristeas,” this fictional account portrays an imaginary dialogue between King Ptolemy II Philadelphus (285–246 B.C.E.) and the Sages of Alexandria. In one memorable passage, we find:

  • The King asked another Sage, “Who is the most suitable person to be made king—a private citizen, or a member of the royal family? The Sage replied, “He who has the most superior moral nature, for kings who come of royal lineage often act harshly and treat their subjects with cruelty. However, private citizens too are not immune to the abuse of power. Despite having experienced evil and borne their share of poverty, these private citizens often rule over the masses with even greater meanness than the godless tyrants. But, as I have said, a good nature which has been properly trained is capable of ruling, and you are a great king, not so much because you excel in the glory of your rule and your wealth but rather because you have surpassed all men in clemency and philanthropy, thanks to God who has endowed you with these qualities.”[1] Continue Reading

The fat cows of Bashan have returned! [revised]

  • Are there any biblical analogies to today’s contemporary economic problems?

Well, sort of . . .

Today’s economic times may be compared to one of the more turbulent periods of the early monarchy, to the time of King Solomon and his son Rehoboam. Most of us know that King Solomon was famous for his wisdom and his love life. Despite purportedly being the “wisest man” of all time, when it came to women—King Solomon proved to be quite foolish. Having one wife to love and cherish wasn’t good enough for the old Testosterum-driven monarch—he had to have a thousand wives. By doing so, he violated a number of biblical prohibitions designed to keep monarchial power in check:

  • But he shall not have a great number of horses; nor shall he make his people go back again to Egypt to acquire them, against the LORD’S warning that you must never go back that way again.Neither shall he have a great number of wives, lest his heart be estranged, nor shall he accumulate a vast amount of silver and gold (Deut 17:16-17)

King Solomon lived the good life, while conscripting the male population to a life of slavery. He used the proceeds to build extravagant palaces for his lovers-all at the public dole. In fact, the biblical narrator writes:

  • King Solomon conscripted thirty thousand workmen from all Israel. He sent them to the Lebanon each month in relays of ten thousand, so that they spent one month in the Lebanon and two months at home. Adoniram was in charge of the draft. Solomon had seventy thousand carriers and eighty thousand stone-cutters in the mountain, in addition to three thousand three hundred overseers, answerable to Solomon’s prefects for the work, oppressing the people who engaged in the work (1 Kgs. 5:27-28)

King Solomon even recreated an Israelite form of slavery that was reminiscent of the Egyptian bondage. The noun מַס (mas) is usually translated as “levy” but it is sometimes used to denote “taskmaster,” or “forced labor” in Biblical Hebrew. Solomon instituted corvee labor, which involves involuntary, unpaid labor or other service for a superior power—a feudal lord, a king, or a foreign ruler (cf. Exod. 1:11; Est 10:1; Lam 1:1). One cannot have high expectations of a pagan Pharaoh, who could scarcely recognize or pronounce the God of Israel’s Name.

But Solomon is different. Surely the “wisest man” of the earth ought to have stronger moral scruples, but he chose to emulate the potentates of the ancient world who ruled by force and despotism.

Solomon’s brutal reign reminded the Israelites of their historical experiences in Egypt (Exod. 1:11). When the Pharaoh who introduced slavery died, the Israelites hoped that a new Pharaoh would take pity upon them. Instead, the next Pharaoh ruled with even greater vindictiveness. (Exod.2:23). A similar development occurs after the death of Solomon. Seeking to curry favor with Rehoboam, the son of Solomon, the people said to King Rehoboam,“Your father put on us a heavy yoke. If you now lighten the harsh service and the heavy yoke your father imposed on us, we will serve you” (1 Kgs.12:1). The King then takes counsel with his advisers and later proclaims, “My father put on you a heavy yoke, but I will make it heavier. My father beat you with whips, but I will beat you with scorpions” (1 Kgs. 12:14).

Solomon’s reckless economic policies bankrupted the nation and Rehoboam’s foolishness led to the secession of the ten tribes under the leadership of Jeroboam.

Are there modern day parallels to this biblical story?

You betcha!

The real issue that clergy across the religious and political spectrum ought to be critiquing the degree of excess, misappropriation, and willful theft of the American consumer by our governmental leaders—from the President down to the typical bureaucrat. Here are several examples that come to mind.

By now, most of you probably heard about the GSA Las Vegas scandal. The GSA stands for the General Services Administration. Several top executives decided to spend over $800,000 of taxpayer dollars on an extravagant “conference” off of the Las Vegas Strip. What made this story so controversial? Well, the General Services Administration (GSA) was created to, in their words, “streamline the administrative work of the federal government” and it “oversees the business of the U.S. federal government.”

Oh really?

  • $31,000 on a “networking reception” that featured $19-per-person “American artisanal cheese display” and $7,000 in sushi
  • $3,200 on a session with a mind reader
  • $5,600 for in-room parties
  • $100,405.37 in employee travel costs to scout the event-meaning, these people returned to the Las Vegas area multiple times to visit hotels before settling on the fancy M Resort and Casino.
  • $3,700 for T-shirts and $2,800 in water bottles
  • $1,500 for “Boursin scalloped potato with Barolo wine-braised short ribs” and a $525 bartender fee for a cash bar.
  • Three officials spent almost $400 for rented tuxedos
  • $1,840 for vests for the 19 “regional ambassadors” and other employees
  • $146,527.05 was spent on catered food during the entire conference
  • $75,000 for a “team-building” exercise — the goal was to build bicycles (which would later be donated to a Boys & Girls Clubs)

Had it not been for an honest reporter, nobody would have known the difference. Think for a minute: Have you ever wondered how many extravagant parties our elected officials have thrown that we have never heard about? But all of these parties are nothing but chump change—when you compare the amount of billions that President Obama’s green energy corporations have squandered with our “stimulus” money. Obviously somebody is getting a lot of stimulation, but not the kind we have expected.

Consider:

  • Last April, Solar Trusts of America received a $2.1 billion grant from the Department of Energy to build the world’s largest solar plant in California.
  • On 31 August 2011 Solyndra announced it was filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, laying off 1100 employees, and shutting down all operations and manufacturing, while providing no severance for the fired employees, or even providing back due vacation day credit.[1]

(NaturalNews) Just a few months ago, FBI agents raided the headquarters of now-bankrupt solar panel company Solyndra, which received more than half-a-billion dollars in federal stimulus funds as part of the federal government’s green energy stimulus initiative.

According to a new investigation by CBS News, the Solyndra scandal is just the tip of the iceberg, as at least 11 other green energy companies have either already failed, or are on the verge of failing, taking with them more than $6.5 billion in taxpayer money.

Lastly, I must say that I have always been a Democrat but I am a Scoop-Jackson Democrat, one who believes that our elected officials must exemplify integrity and fairness to all—regardless of race, religion, or economic background.

Judging by her behavior, Mrs. Obama has aspirations of becoming the next Imelda Marcus of the Philippines. Imelda Marcus’s extravagant lifestyle reportedly included five-million-dollar shopping tours in New York, Rome and Copenhagen in 1983, and sending a plane to pick up Australian white sand for a new beach resort.

White House sources today claimed that the First Lady has spent $10 million of U.S. taxpayers’ money on vacations alone in the past year. Not bad for just 42 days of vacation, or a little more than one million out of every nine days, according to a White House Dossier analysis of her travel.

Her vacations, the cost of which are mostly borne by taxpayers, include trips to Panama City, Fla., Martha’s Vineyard, Hawaii, South Africa, Latin America, Vail, Colo., and her visit this week to her brother in Corvallis, Ore.

One can only conclude that, “It’s good to be President!”

Amos the prophet once said, “Hear this word, women of the mountain of Samaria, you cows of Bashan, You who oppress the weak and abuse the needy; Who say to your lords, ‘Bring drink for us!’” (Amos 4:1). It seems that the fat cows of Bashan have invaded and conquered the White House.

So ask my fellow clergy: Where is your sense of outrage? When you consider how many people can barely fill their cars up with gas, Michelle Obama’s spending habits seem obscene.

If I were the President, I would make it a point to be more circumspect with my personal conduct. The appearance of impropriety undermines the confidence the President is trying to establish for his presidency. Continue Reading

Today’s Economic Problems and the Bible

I find it amusing whenever I see Christians argue about Jesus and the virtues of liberalism vs. conservatism. NPR featured a story dealing with the question: Would Jesus promote a political philosophy endorsing small-government, or whether he would act as the advocate of the poor?

Politicians love to pontificate almost as much as clergy! After the House passed its budget last month, liberal religious leaders claimed that the Republican plan, which lowered taxes and cut services to the poor, was an affront to the Gospel — and particularly Jesus’ command to care for the poor.

Not so, says Wisconsin Republican Rep. Paul Ryan, who chairs the House Budget Committee. He told Christian Broadcasting Network last week that it was his Catholic faith that helped shape the budget plan. In his view, the Catholic principle of subsidiarity suggests the government should have little role in helping the poor. He adds, “Through our civic organizations, through our churches, through our charities — through all of our different groups where we interact with people as a community — that’s how we advance the common good.”

The debate is an interesting one and I have heard some rabbis make similar claims that the Exodus proves that God and Moses are great examples of biblical liberals, while the evil Pharaoh and his supporters would have been an excellent Republican. To some extent, the Democrats are also correct in asserting that Moses and Jesus were liberals—and by the way, so is God.

Historically, Ryan’s position has been correct. One of the great philosophers and evolutionary theorists of the 19th century, Peter Kropotkin (1842-1921), took issue with Darwin’s concept of the “survival of the fittest,” and believed that the species of the world survived because of a concept known as “mutual aid.” Continue Reading

The Righteous Shepherd of Theresienstadt

Among the non‑Orthodox rabbis who were placed in the concentration camps, Rabbi Leo Baeck provides one of the most outstanding examples of shepherding of that era. Baeck’s saintly conduct served as an inspiration to all who were with him in the camp. In the years prior to the war, Baeck did his utmost to encourage the Jews of Germany to leave the hostile climate of Germany. Baeck refused offers from the Jewish communities in England and the United States to offer him asylum. He was determined to remain in Germany until he was the last remaining Jew. Like the shepherd, he was determined to look after the flock regardless of personal danger. Baeck succeeded in getting out one third of the German Jewish population. He used his pulpit to challenge the atrocities of Hitler and the Gestapo When he was summoned to appear before the Gestapo on the Shabbat, he openly refused and defied them.

In 1941, Baeck was deported to the Theresienstadt concentration camp. The Nazis used Theresienstadt as a model camp where the Jews were supposedly “treated well.” Prior to his 70th birthday, Baeck volunteered to be responsible for the camp’s welfare program. He was determined to keep up the morale of his fellow inmates. Baeck recognized the importance of keeping his people’s spirit as strong as possible. He taught Torah and philosophy in the camp while arranging for theatrical and musical performances for the camp’s children. Rabbi Baeck recalled after the war:

  • It was dangerous for us to meet at night. There was an additional danger as well. During the day these men were involved in terrible, back‑breaking work. And after such work, when they needed rest, they came together at night to listen to lessons and lectures, which could have weakened their bodies further. I shall never forget those meetings. We would assemble in darkness. To light a candle there, or even a match, would have brought immediate disaster upon us. We spoke about matters of the spirit and eternal questions, about God, about Jews in the world, about the eternity of Israel. In the midst of darkness, I sensed light in the dark room, the light of Torah…More than once I could not see their faces, but I did see great spiritual light.[1]

Leo Baeck also personified the best qualities of shepherding by refusing to abandon his flock when they needed him most. In fact, when the Church attempted to work out a prisoner swap for Baeck, the Church official replied: “Your mission is in vain; if the man is such as you have described him, he will never desert his flock.”[2] Indeed, the Church official’s words proved true for in 1945, the Nazis released 1200 Jews from Theresienstadt, but Leo Baeck refused to be one of the rescued numbers. When an American officer came to personally look after his release, Baeck insisted on staying for an additional two months, until the typhus epidemic had been properly controlled. While he was there, Baeck wrote many letters for inmates who had no identity papers; these letters ensured that the inmates would be well-received by the international community.[3]

The heroism of men like Rabbis Eliezer Silver and Leo Baeck deserved to be remembered until the end of time. The Jewish people were blessed to have such outstanding leaders.


Notes:

[1] Cited in Siddur Sim Shalom (New York: The Rabbinical Assembly & The United Synagogue of America,1985), 832.

[2] Leonard Baker, Days of Sorrow and Pain: Leo Baeck and the Berlin Jews (New York: Macmillan, 1978), 62.

[3] Naomi E. Pasachoff, Great Jewish Thinkers: Their Lives and Work (Springfield, NJ: Behrman House, Inc, 1992), 154.

The Candle of Faith

Nothing challenges the belief in a benevolent God like the ubiquity of evil in the world. For the Jewish people, the experience of the Holocaust revealed the inadequacy of traditional theology. The God of the Exodus seemed “to be out for lunch.” Asked in more simple and straight-forward terms, we wonder: So, God, what have you done lately since the Exodus?

Actually, our discomfort with theological platitudes is nothing new. The book of Job is famous for challenging the theological vision set out in the biblical theology of Deuteronomy. Good people often suffer, while the wicked prosper. In Late Antiquity, the philosopher Epicurus fleshes out the cognitive dissonance people experience when contemplating the problem of theodicy:

1. Is God unable to prevent evil?

2. Is God unwilling to prevent evil?

3. If God is able and willing to prevent evil, then where does evil come from?

4. If God is neither able nor willing to prevent evil, then why do we call him “god”?

The cynics of religion often play a prophetical role in confronting our superficiality as “religious” people. We would be wise to ponder their searing words.

Martin Luther King appears to have anticipated this genre of theological questioning. In his Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community, King asserts, “Structures of evil do not crumble by passive waiting. If history teaches anything, it is that evil is recalcitrant and determined, and never voluntarily relinquishes its hold short of an almost fanatical resistance. Evil must be attacked by a counteracting persistence, by the day-to-day assault of the battering rams of justice the forces of light cautiously wait, patiently pray and timidly act. So we end up with a double destruction: the destructive violence of the bad people and the destructive silence of the good people.” [1]

I believe King’s provocative words offers the only realistic solution to the theological problems posed by Holocaust and other genocides we have witnessed in the 20th and 21st centuries. I believe God’s will is manifested in our will to actively thwart the forces of chaos and inspired fanaticism, which perpetuate human suffering. How we respond to crisis speaks volumes about the depth of our religious convictions and ethical sensibilities.

Some rabbinic leaders demonstrated great acuity in responding to the challenges of rescuing endangered Jewish lives. Others reacted with passivity and waited for a miraculous Divine intervention to occur. In a manner of speaking, redemption came—but not in the form that the theocrats and Hassidic rebbes imagined.

Let us focus on the life of one incredible human being and rabbinical leader. Rabbi Eliezer Silver (1882-1968) was not a physically tall person; he stood about 5ft tall and wore a top hat that made him seem taller. To those who knew this man, Rabbi Silver walked the earth like a Colossus. Jewish leaders, politicians—and even the President—respected Rabbi Silver because of his humanity and concern for others.

For the record, Rabbi Silver proved to be one the greatest rescuers of European Jewry during the Holocaust. He is credited with saving many thousands of Jewish lives. Early on in 1939, Silver was one of the founding fathers of the Vaad Hatzalah (Rescue Committee), where Silver was appointed as its president. He was instrumental in rescuing the cream of European rabbinic leaders, who along with Rabbis Aaron Kotler, Abraham Kalmanowitz marched up Pennsylvanian Avenue on October 6, 1943.

While standing in front of the White House, the large Jewish entourage of over two hundred rabbis recited the Psalms and announced, “We pray and appeal to the Lord, blessed be He, that our most gracious President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, recognizing this momentous hour of history and responsibility that the Divine Presence has laid upon him, that he may save the remnant of the People of the Book, the People of Israel.”

Shortly afterward, the Jewish delegation met with Vice President Henry Wallace and a congressional delegation to make their case for European Jewry. Later, at the Lincoln Memorial, a special memorial prayer was said on behalf of the martyred Jews. Finally, the five rabbis went to the White House to meet with the President, where the President made his famous backdoor exit rather than meeting with them. Although they did not meet with the President, the publicity of the march led to the eventual formulation of the War Refugees Board that opened the doorway to over 100,000 Jews. When one considers how many of these survivors went on to have children–not to mention grandchildren–Rabbi Silver really saved millions of lives!

After the event, Rabbi Silver succeeded and raised over $5,000,000 for the new immigrants and secured over 2,000 emergency visas for the Jewish refugees. Like Rabbi Michael Weissmandl, Rabbi Eliezer Silver utilized every means available to bribe officials in Europe and in Latin America, to help settle Jews in the United States, Canada, Mexico, and Palestine. Foreign diplomats provided the fake visas to help facilitate the rescue. He even attempted to trade concentration camp prisoners for cash and tractors, resulting in the release of hundreds of Jews from the Bergen Belsen concentration camps along with several others.

Rabbi Silver, driven by the biblical admonition against standing idly by a brother’s blood, made no apologies for violating the Trading with the Enemy Act. In one of his most famous letters, he writes:

  • We are ready to pay ransom for Jews and deliver them from concentration camps with the help of forged passports. We are prepared to violate many laws in order to save lives. We do not hesitate to deal with counterfeiters and passport thieves. We are ready to smuggle Jewish children over the borders, and to engage expert smugglers for this purpose, rogues whose profession this is. We are ready to smuggle money illegally into enemy territory in order to bribe those dregs of humanity, the killers of the Jewish people![2]

Even after the war was over, Rabbi Silver continued to help bring over refugees from more than eight European nations. In the end, he died penniless after using all of his monies to help pave the way for Jewish immigration to the United States and Israel, including those who were trying to flee from Communism.

As mentioned above, Rabbi Silver’s life speaks volumes about the kind of biblical faith that is transforming and spiritually real.

It is significant to note that there is no redemption anywhere in the Bible where God acts unilaterally when it comes to the redemption of His people. For an Exodus to occur, God requires human partners, e.g., a Moses, an Aaron, a Miriam and so on. For the miracle of Purim to occur, there must be a Mordechai and an Esther. This theme runs like a stream of conscious throughout the Tanakh; the only question remains: What will we do as God’s junior partner in eradicating human evil that we—and we alone—have either created or allowed to flourish in this world?

Faith in God needs to inspire in us a willingness to step up to the plate and make a difference. Sermonizing might be fine for Christian pastors, but our tradition demands that “we walk our theological talk.” Continue Reading

The Man with the Golden Smile … (Revised)

Our tradition is a tapestry of stories. Every generation weaves its own unique color and threads as we make a mosaic about our history and family memories.

Whenever our family of survivors told us about their experiences in the concentration camps, I used to marvel at their courage and moral fortitude. Despite their experiences, they continued to live positive lives and raised children with a strong Jewish identity; they taught us what it meant to have an indomitable spirit that refused to give in to despair and hopelessness.

Martin Gilbert in his book, The Holocaust, tells the story about a young sixteen year-old named Zvi Michalowski. On September 27, 1941, Zvi was supposed to be executed with 3,000 other Lithuanian Jews. He had fallen into the pit a fraction of a second before the Nazis shot their guns. That night, he crept out of the pit, and fled to the closest village. He knocked on a door of a peasant, who saw this naked man, covered with blood.

  • He begged the elderly widow and said: “I am Lord Jesus Christ. I came down from the cross. Look at me—the blood, the pain, the suffering of the innocent. Let me in.” The widow threw herself at his feet and begged for forgiveness and she hid him for three days. The young man managed to survive as a partisan.[1]

One cannot help but compare this anecdote to the passage one of the most famous of the pastoral parables:

  • “You may remember, I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:35‑40).

What does the human face say to me when no words are ever verbally said? The human face says, “Look at me; treat me with humanity; I am like you.” In the parable of Jesus, the 1st century rabbi gently reminds his disciples that kindness and compassion must find tangible expression in the language of good deeds.

It is amazing how the stories of our past continue to resurface in the collective unconscious of the human race. Reverberations of history continue to manifest their presence and the memories of our wise forbearers.

When we look at the children who Hitler killed in the millions, what do their faces say to us from their pictures? The human face, as you know, is capable of almost infinite expressions; the face is the mirror to the soul. According to the French philosopher and Holocaust survivor Emmanuel Levinas, the human face always challenges us to respond ethically toward others. No commandment even need be given, when I see the human face looking back at me, I cannot deny his humanity without destroying my own in the process. In the age of push-button warfare, it is so easy to kill millions without ever having to look at the human face that commands us to be aware of our mutual humanity.

Remembering the victims of the Holocaust must be more than a sentimental recollection of lives that were lost. The act of memory in the Bible is always dynamic as it is transformative. How we remember the death of the six million is important, for as the philosopher George Santayana said, “He who forgets the past is condemned to repeat it.”

All human beings have basic needs that must be met. All of us are fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as William Shakespeare wrote in The Merchant of Venice, “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?” continues Shakespeare’s famous passage. “And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.”

The most important lesson the school of history has to offer goes back to the dawn of humanity. It is the golden rule, karma, the principle of reciprocity: Treat others as you would be treated. Yet, we struggle still to internalize this message, even though the future of the human race depends upon realizing the simple ethic of consideration.

Yet, as we listen to the voices of the survivors, we have learned that it is possible to find friends among our enemies if we take the risk of looking. Gazing into each other’s faces — the eyes, mouth, nose, ears—the common humanity that we all share.

M father Leo Israel Samuel’s experiences in Majdanek and Auschwitz did not scar his buoyant spirit like it with other survivors. No, father’s face always had a smile; he exuded a sunny disposition.

It has been about 16 years since my father passed away. Although my father told us many stories about the Holocaust and his experiences in the concentration camps, there was one story he never told us. Fifty years later, my Aunt Miriam (who recently celebrated her 87 birthday) told us a dramatic story that almost died in silence.

Here’s what happened . . .

One day, after backbreaking work, young Leo received 40 lashes for insubordination. Throughout the beating, he did not cry out in pain. The Nazis found my father’s stoic demeanor amusing, and so they gave him another 40 lashes. At the end of his beating, the commandant went up to him and punched out his front teeth.

Like Jacob’s nocturnal battle with the angelic assailant, father also walked away alive but injured. I will never know how he found the inner strength and will to survive.

I am thankful he wasn’t killed; otherwise, you would not be reading this story.

After hearing Aunt Miriam’s story, I decided to write a new poem in honor of Father’s memory. I realize poetry is not one of my strengths, but the words came to me in a moment of inspiration.

THE GOLDEN SMILE

When I was a young boy
Father possessed the beauty of the golden smile
He had grace, laughter, and style.

I will never know the degree of his pain,
Even as tears from Heaven, dripped like rain.
When the Nazis whipped him while he stood immobile,
His character intact and with dignity remained ennobled.

Wincing in pain they gave another forty lashes,
He felt the lashes cut into his body, but not into his soul,
Father stood strong and defiant, determined to survive
He felt his breath, he was still alive!

Afterward, the commandant punched him in the mouth,
Knocking his front teeth, from north to south.

So after the war, he had his teeth capped with gold
Demonstrating strength and a spirit bold!

Father, I miss your strength and wisdom,
But memory of your smile etched in my soul,
Will forever remain beautiful and winsome.



Notes:[1] Martin Gilbert The Holocaust, (London and New York: Holt Paperbacks, 1986)) 200f.

Opening our door for Elijah

As we open our door to welcome Elijah, some of us probably snicker and say “Yeah, right…” The cynicism of our age makes us doubt whether the Messiah will ever really arrive.

People often wonder who the Messiah is going to be. Many faith communities believe it will be Jesus; Chabad Hasidim believe that Rabbi Schnersohn will arise from the dead and save humankind. Personally, when asked, I often like to tell my students, “Here’s the bad news: The Messiah is more metaphor than it is a historical reality-at least with respect to the present or future generations. Antecedents for this belief appear in BT Sanhedrin 99a:

  • Rabbi Hillel said: There is no messiah for Israel, seeing that they already had him in the time of King Hezekiah. Rav Yosef said: May Rabbi Hillel’s Master forgive him. Hezekiah lived during the First Temple while Zechariah prophesied during the Second Temple.

Rashi notes in his commentary that R. Hillel accepted the concept of a future redemption but merely held that there will be no individual who will bring that redemption. Rather, God will do it without a human messenger. In other words, the human aspect of the Messiah is not that important; what matters is that it is God Who will bring about the final redemption. The 15th century Jewish philosopher, Joseph Albo, contends that the belief in a personal messiah is not essential to Judaism. There is also nothing indicative that R. Hillel rejected the futuristic concept of a messianic age—just a human messiah.

In the Tanakh itself, the term Messiah, simply means, “the anointed one,” originally referred any individual consecrated with sacred oil such as the king of Israel and the high priest. But it the was also applied to any person for whom God had a special purpose - Cyrus of Persia, for example (Isa. 45:1). This passage in particular is especially intriguing, because the prophet suggests that God can designate anyone-even a gentile-to function in an anointed capacity. One could further suggest that in modern times, President Truman was King Cyrus redux, for he alone made it possible for Israel to be recognized as a Jewish state.

One could even argue that the idea of a Messianic age is another metaphor for Utopia.

But then I tell my students: “Now here’s the good news: You’re it! You must act like a Messiah in redeeming the world around you.” To create the Messianic world, each of us must actualize the goodness p that we possess. Nobody is going to do this task for you. Here is a remarkable Talmudic story that speaks about the importance of getting in touch with the kind of redemptive lives each of us must live-if we are to ultimately midwife the Messianic Era that was envisioned by the prophets.

The Sages often wondered when and where the Messiah would appear, and frequently criticized individuals who claimed or believed in a messiah, e.g., Jesus and Bar Kochba. Despite their reticence to make messianic predictions, the rabbis nevertheless believed that his coming remains an eternal possibility. As for the time when this consummation was to take place, it was generally held to depend on the degree of progress men will have achieved in their moral development.

This point is well illustrated in the well-known Talmudic parable:

  • Rabbi Joshua ben Levi met Elijah standing at the entrance of Rabbi Simeon ben Yohai’s tomb.… He then said to him, “When will the Messiah come?” “Go and ask him” was the reply. “Where is he sitting?”—”At the entrance of the city.” And how shall I recognize him? — “He is sitting among the poor lepers, untying and re-bandaging their wounds, while thinking, “Should I be needed, I must not delay.” …[1] So he went to him and greeted him, saying, “Peace be upon you, Master and Teacher.” “Peace be upon you, O son of Levi,” he replied. ‘When will you come, Master?’ asked he. “Today” was his answer.” When the Messiah failed to appear that day, a deeply disappointed Rabbi Joshua returned to Elijah with the complaint: “He lied to me, stating that he would come today, but has not!” Elijah then enlightened him that the Messiah had really quoted Scripture (Ps. 95:7): “Today, if ye hearken to His voice” (Sanhedrin 98a).

One might wonder: Why wasn’t the Messiah worried about ritual impurity? One exposition found in the commentaries suggests that the Messiah is among those afflicted with leprosy (cf. Isa. 53:4); while this is a plausible exposition, I prefer the image of the Messiah ministering to the lepers. The answer to the question is even more remarkable when considering how the ancients marginalized the lepers.

In the days of the Temple, lepers lived outside the cities in special huts, where they all congregated for support. People feared any kind of physical contact with them for fear of contagion, or because of the possibility they might become ritually contaminated.

It was not uncommon for children and adults to throw stones at the lepers because they were the outcasts of ancient society.[2] Anytime a person merely approached a leper, the leper had to say, “Unclean!” in order to avoid contact. One could only imagine the havoc this caused in the leper’s family. The mere appearance of a leper on the street or in a neighborhood meant that everyone had to avoid him.[3] No one could even salute him; his bed was to be low, inclining towards the ground.[4] If he even put his head into a home, that home or building became ritually contaminated. No less a distance than four cubits (six feet) must be kept from a leper; or, if the wind came from that direction, a hundred were scarcely sufficient. For all practical purposes, a leper was like a walking dead man.

Yet, the Messiah of our story seems as though he could care less about ritual impurity; for him, caring for the lepers is a supreme ethical demand that transcends ritual laws.

Learning to heal the lepers—just like the Messiah

The Messiah’s response is intriguing. Redemption will not occur tomorrow, but today when we emulate his acts of selfless love; messianic redemption comes when we bandage the wounds of those suffering in the world around us. It seems as though the Talmud is suggesting, we have a personal role to play in redeeming the human condition. Redemption comes by living a redemptive life.

Bandaging the open wounds of the lepers, one open sore at a time, is the only viable human response to preparing the world for ultimate redemption. This process begins with treating the forlorn and abandoned members such as the lepers, or the AIDS victims, or anyone with a terrible disease with prayer, consideration, kindness and compassion— regardless of the disease.

The Talmud relates a story that is consistent with the ethos of the Messiah passage mentioned above. “R. Helbo was once sick. But none visited him. The Sage rebuked the scholars, saying, ‘Did it not once happen that one of R. Akiba’s disciples fell sick and the Sages did not visit him? So R. Akiba personally entered his student’s house to visit him, and upon finding the chamber neglected, Rabbi Akiba instructed his students to clean up the home and the sick student soon recovered. Thankfully, the student exclaimed, ‘My master—you have revived me!’ R. Akiba began his very next lecture with the statement, ‘Anyone who fails to visit the sick is like a shedder of blood’” (Nedarim 40a). The moral of the story stresses the importance of mutual-aid and responsibility. Simply put, we are our “brother’s keeper.

The French Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Lévinas stresses how God’s face is mirrored in the face of the ordinary people we encounter; when we see the beggar on the street asking for us to help, God’s face is present in the face of those struggling just to survive–one day at a time. Kabbalists sometimes describe the Shekhinah (the maternal aspect of the Divine) as always present among those who experience pain and loss. Jewish tradition teaches us that we become most God-like when we outflow compassion to a suffering world.

According to Levinas, God participates in a “divine comedy” in which God makes himself both “knowable” and “unknowable” in the shape of the Other—neighbor, stranger. The way we care for the Other speaks volumes about our faith in God. Isaiah 58 contains a powerful message that still speaks across the chasm of time:

You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight.

You fast, but you swing a mean fist.

The kind of fasting you do

won’t get your prayers off the ground.

Do you think this is the kind of fast day I’m after:

a day to show off humility?

To put on a pious long face

and parade around solemnly in black?

Do you call that fasting,

a fast day that I, God, would like?

“This is the kind of fast day I’m after:

to break the chains of injustice,

get rid of exploitation in the workplace,

free the oppressed,

cancel debts.

What I’m interested in seeing you do is:

sharing your food with the hungry,

inviting the homeless poor into your homes,

putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,

being available to your own families.

Do this and the lights will turn on,

and your lives will turn around at once.

Your righteousness will pave your way.

The God of glory will secure your passage.

Then when you pray, God will answer.

You’ll call out for help and I’ll say, ‘Here I am”

(Isaiah 58:5-11).

Continue Reading

Passover Rapsody 2012

Luke Chabner and I composed a Passover Seder Rap. We hope you like it.

 

Table 1

We’re so glad you came to our Seder

We knew you’d come, sooner or later!

Whether by a truck or an elevator,

From China, Alaska & the Equator

 

This is the bread of affliction we eat,

We welcome the stranger from the street

Without you, Seder ain’t complete

We’ve got a tasty dinner, with delicious meat!

 

Table 2

We will soon hide the Afikomen

Whether you’re Conan or just a Kohen

We hope you like our little slogan

We invited our favorite Japanese shogun!

We remember the ancient tale of yore

The day after we put blood on the door

Left so fast, our feet were sore

The Red Sea parted, we crossed ashore

 

Table 3

Sit down with Father and Matta

And take out your Maxwell House Hagadah

We can tell by the smile on your Cada,

We know you want a Pesach enchilada-

 

Find the youngest child, ask four questions

We look to the rabbi, to recite the blessins’

As we learn about the Pesach lessons

Before we sit down eat and fressen

 

Table 4

Passover is about leaving really fast!

God took us out of Pharaoh’s grasp

We left Egypt, by coach first class

We celebrate Passover, not a mass

 

Moses’ name is hardly mentioned

God is the hero, deserving of attention

More important than your earthly pension

Everyone left without dissension!

 

Table 5

We drink four cups of wine

East Passover lamb, and not a swine

It’s our history—yours and mine!

So follow Moses, and get in line!

 

We wandered in the desert for 40 years,

A place of bitterness, a place of tears

D’Seder teaches us, banish our fears

We clean out our homes, & throw out the beers

 

Table 6

From Chula Vista to La Costa

We eat lots of flat tasteless matza

More and more, lotsa and lotsas

This ain’t your mother’s Italian pasta

 

We remember herbs that are so bitter

Forget the glamor and all the glitter

Jewish suffering still gives us lots of jitters

Anti-Semites are nasty critters!

 

Table 7

Now let’s all point to the shank bone

We’re here together and not alone!

Kindly turn down your cell phone

Pray that tyrants are soon dethroned!

Every person must see himself

Leaving Egypt with Egyptian wealth

We left proudly, not in stealth

Eat your egg, it’s good for your health!

 

Table 8

We will soon eat Gefillte fish

With horseradish on your dish

Stay away from the potato knish

Swallow the horseradish, make a wish!

 

Sephardic Jews love eating lots of rice

But Ashkenazim are afraid of mice

Let me give you some good advice

Make sure you put some spice in your rice

Table 9

Take the Afikomen, out of your pocket

Open the door for Elijah the Prophet

He’s comin’ fast with the force of a rocket

Now earthly power can hardly stop it!

Continue Reading

The Best Question of the Passover Seder

Children have an unusual ability when it comes to confronting our spiritual hypocrisy as parents and as adults; very often they get to the essence of the problem as they perceive things. Frequently, as parents, we often fail to hear the questions our young people ask of us; often we overreact whenever we feel that our beliefs and values are being questioned or attacked. Rather than listening with an inner ear, as parents, we often react with harshness and anger.

Sometimes we wish our children were more respectful and compliant, or at least, “mind their place” at the Seder table and not misbehave or draw undue attention to themselves. As any Woody Allen fan certainly knows, passionate family discussions always have been a part of Jewish life since ancient times. Unanimity never has been the goal of any kind of discussion wherever you have two or more Jews together engaged in dialogue.

Passover is no exception to this rule.

During Passover, this thought finds expression in the question of the “Rasha” (better known to most of us as the “wicked child”). Without his presence and participation, the entire Seder would be a dull experience. Here is a literal translation of this controversial passage of the Passover Hagadah:

  • The wicked son says, ‘What is this service to you?’ Note the Torah says, to you, but not to him; because he has excluded himself from the community. He has denied a basic teaching of the faith. Therefore, you shall smack his teeth and tell him, It is because of this that God wrought for me in my going out of Egypt (Exod. 13:8)‘For me-but not him. Had he been there, he would not have been redeemed.”

The smack in the mouth in front of an entire family creates a toxic atmosphere that is not conducive for sharing and celebrating the Passover holidays.

As a parent, I often have wondered how anyone could call their child “wicked.” The glaring meaning of “Rasha” is arguably offensive. If we are to choose a less offensive title, let us describe him or her as a “Wayward Child,” or perhaps more accurately a “Rebellious Child.” At any rate, our “Rasha” is a person who is a young person who stands perilously close to the edge of his/her Judaism.

Without a wise pedagogical response, the “Rasha” may grow up to disaffiliate as a Jew. Calling him a “Rasha” could become a self-fulfilling prophecy. So we wonder: Why does the “Rasha” strike such a visceral note? The anger of the father deserves special attention. Why does he get upset? How could a simple question push a parent to act so violently at the family Seder? Clearly, the “Rasha” has touched a raw nerve in his father.

If my conjecture is correct, the “wicked” son’s question now begins to make more sense, for she/he may be a child who is dissatisfied with superficial answers. The father may love tradition, but he lacks the ability to articulate to his rebellious adolescent child what it means to be a Jew, especially in a modern age. Of all the children who are present at the Seder table, the “Rasha” is asking the best question of them all.

On a deeper level, the question, “What does this service mean to YOU?” Put in different terms, the child asks, “If the Seder has no deeper meaning for YOU, why should it have any special meaning for ME? How can I make this Seder a self-authenticating experience if the Seder is nothing more than a mechanical exercise? Until I find out the answer, I will not be subject to you or any tradition until I know for sure what it really means, assuming that it means anything at all.”

Regardless of his son’s attitude, he must respond wisely and compassionately—and not with anger and violence. He might have considered saying, “Son, your question is an excellent question—it is precisely the question of this evening. Although I can only speak for myself, but I think the message of Passover applies to you as well. None of us would be celebrating this festive meal had it not been for this important celebration all of our ancestors’ experience of the Exodus. Had our ancestors opted not to leave, you would not recognize the world of the present. Freedom resonates in our soul precisely because our ancestors chose freedom over slavery. They chose the insecurity of freedom over the security of slavery. That is what the holiday means to me—and it might mean the same to you, if you really think about it.” Wise parenting can bypass the Oedipal conflict that parents routinely experience with their adolescent children.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, children have a way of discerning a parent’s Achilles’ heel. A child intuitively knows when parents are just breezing through the motions of religious life—especially in when it pertains to religious ritual. Maybe the rebellious child has a good reason to rebel, for she/he instinctively knows when a parent is real or unreal. The “Rasha” may well see something hollow about his “religious” father.

As parents, Passover reminds us that we need to reexamine what it means to celebrate freedom. Hassidic mystics speak of Egypt as the place of limitations (as intimated by the name “Mitzraim,” the land of straits. On Passover, it is time for us to break out of our narrow-minded way of looking at the world. Passover reminds us to show compassion toward all who are disenfranchised or marginalized.

In all honesty, a wise and loving response from the father might inspire his rebellious son to rethink his attitude about the holiday. There is obviously more to the Seder than the matza ball soup! Continue Reading