Category: Am Yisrael

THE TRAGEDY OF THE HOSTAGES

One of the horrors of the current war is the holding of the hostages.  Their predicament is hopeless because their freedom depends on some level of trust, and there is no trust.

Israel and Hamas are avowed enemies.  Each is dedicated to the destruction of the other.  There is no middle ground, no reconciliation, no peace.  With this at each core, trust cannot exist.

Hamas has fully embraced the “civilian as a weapon” idea.  To give up the hostages means giving up one of its most potent weapons.  The hostages have been used as shields, and many believed as a bargaining chip.  But without trust, there is no incentive to use this bargaining chip, and once it is used, nothing is left. Hamas does not trust that Israel will live by an agreement; they believe Israel sees an agreement as only the means to obtaining the release of the hostages, nothing more.  Once the hostages are returned, Israel will continue to prosecute the war.

Israel has displayed its commitment to destroying Hamas.  As Hamas cannot be appeased, it must be eliminated.  Israel has a long memory and believes in retribution.  It does not trust Hamas.  Israel thought it could permit Hamas to exist as it did not pose an existential threat and accepted a tenuous ceasefire. Then, October 7 happened, and whatever trust existed was shattered.

A ceasefire is a lull until it ends, and the warring begins again. This is part of the cynical lack of trust, but it is one of the few things both sides can agree upon.

War is usually fought to capitulation.  One side is defeated unequivocally.  The victor then dictates the terms of surrender and peace over the vanquished.  This may not be possible. But until these two warring parties have more to gain by ceasing hostilities and learning to co-exist, the death and destruction will continue.

I pray that the current negotiations might prove me wrong and that the hostages will be returned. And perhaps peace might be seen as an alternative to hatred and carnage.

 

 

 

Shabbat Shalom

Prayer is universal. It transcends language, culture, and creed, uniting us in our deepest hopes and aspirations. This rendition of The Prayer blends its original message with the Hebrew translation by Rabbi Moshe Pomerantz z”l (1935-2024).

This Shabbat I share the beauty of The Prayer from Park Avenue Synagogue and Cantor Azi Schwartz.

Wishing you Shabbat Shalom.

May the hostages come home!

It is time for Peace

I was sitting with someone recently. He is a Muslim and active in the causes of his people. I am a Jew and active in the causes of my people. We are part of a dialogue group that builds bridges and develops relationships with people we usually do not get to know. But we are engaged, and through this process, a friendship has ensued.

The war in the Middle East is deeply painful for us both.  We both know people we deeply care about who are direct victims of this war.

My friend recently celebrated the birth of his child.  Mom and baby are doing well. He is so excited to be a father.  Like most fathers, he wants to provide for his family and nurture his child with love and a bright future filled with opportunities.  I recently celebrated the birth of a grandchild.  We are overjoyed to have a new addition to our family and cannot wait for the next opportunity to shower our love.  But in this beautiful moment was something chilling; it was an epiphany of sorts.  How different would this be if we did not all live here.

If the war between our people never ends, what would become of our children?   With the birth certificate, effectively, a death warrant would have been issued as well.  Whether warriors or innocent victims, they would be the fodder for hostilities between two warring nations; we bring them into a killing machine. Birth should represent hope- the idea that there is a future and tomorrow promises something good.  We do not have children so that they may be offered up, sacrificed on an altar of hate.

My friend and I shudder at this, as do many other mothers and fathers here and there. Birth is a miracle, and peace is no less.  It is time to find a path forward together.

Starting All Over Again -Bereishit

There is an old joke that goes something like this:

The rabbi sees Mrs. Schwartz in the grocery store just before the High Holidays. He greets her as most rabbis would, “Mrs. Schwartz, it’s so good to see you. I look forward to seeing you in the synagogue for the High Holidays.”

She replies, “It’s good to see you, too, rabbi. But I don’t think I’ll be coming.”

“Oh,” said the rabbi, “I hope everything is alright. Why won’t you be there?”

“Well, rabbi,” she responds, “Every year, it’s the same old thing. We even read the same Torah portion.”

Although the joke isn’t particularly funny, it notes an essential part of our wisdom tradition; every time we read “Bereishit Bara Elohim” or any part of the Torah, it is different because we are different. Every time we engage in a text, our understanding differs from the last time. Our experiences shape and influence us and, therefore, also affect how we grasp the text. Our lives have evolved, and likely, the questions on our minds do, too. All of us have experienced the same thing differently. Let me explain.

Think about returning to a place you’d been before. Despite our expectations, we experience it differently this time around. The river is not the same water; our favorite book or movie reveals different secrets. Even my beloved childhood Twinkies do not taste the same.

A teacher of mine shared that the answers you get depend on the questions you ask. Our texts are treasure troves, just waiting for us to uncover the precious jewels they contain. The questions I ask in middle age are very different from the ones I asked as a young person. The issues I confront today in our current climate have me seeking answers to deeply troubling questions about meaning, seeking wisdom from this insightful tradition.
We begin again with the first words of the Torah. But what does it mean? How does the message resonate with you now?

This has been a challenging year for Jews. The Oct. 7 invasion of Israel, the war starting in Gaza and expanding into Lebanon, threats from Iran, deep political unrest, antisemitism cloaked as anti-Zionism/anti-Israel and unvarnished Jew-hatred appearing across this country and the world have most of us reeling. We are shaken to our core and struggling to figure out how we move forward. Our texts are compelling and filled with timeless wisdom, and we grapple with them this year in ways that we didn’t expect.

During the High Holidays, we are reminded that God understood the need to create a world that balanced Din and Rachamim, law and compassion. Midrashim share stories that this world was not God’s first attempt. Previous creations failed due to the heavy reliance on one or the other trait. Our stories also tell us that the Torah existed even before creation.

This leads me to an interesting thought. Perhaps even the divine approaches the Torah differently, learning from each encounter. Even the almighty learns from the Torah.

Moses once asked the eternal one what would happen to the wisdom once Moses was gone. God sweeps him into a class taught by the sage Rabbi Akiva. Moses is perplexed as nothing Akiva says seems familiar to him as he listens. And then, as if on cue, Akiva closes with, “And all of this comes from the Torah of Moses, our teacher. One of the fantastic parts of our tradition is the messages of core values that remain timeless even if the way they are practiced or understood evolves with the generations.

Our mystical stories talk of black fire and white fire, describing our sacred scrolls.
The words, the letters of the words and even the white spaces on the sacred text are opportunities for us to learn, using the holy text as a timeless source of knowledge, bounded only by our ability to comprehend it.

So, Mrs. Schwartz didn’t get it quite right. As we read the story of God’s creating, let us use this as a chance to see not an old story but as one of a new beginning, reading with fresh eyes, engaging it and asking the essential personal questions as the story of the world and the Jewish people continues to unfold.

Rabbi David Levin is the founder of the Jewish Relationships Initiative, which aims to help seekers of meaning through Jewish Wisdom in human relationships and end-of-life challenges. He is also vice president of the Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia. The Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia is proud to provide diverse perspectives on Torah commentary for the Jewish Exponent. The opinions expressed in this column are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Board of Rabbis.