Sunday, November 10, 2019

Lech Lecha after Pueblo - November 8, 2019


Dear Friends,

In this week’s parashah, Lech Lecha. We are introduced to Abram and Sarai – soon to become Abraham and Sarah. In the beginning of the parashah, Abram is challenged by God with the words: Lech Lecha -"go forth" - to a new place – from all you know - "...to a land that I will show you." They do not know their destination – or the route they will take. All they know is that they must leave and begin anew. 

Biblical scholars have taught that the first few chapters of the book of Bereshit/Genesis are a series of new beginnings chronicled in multiple Creation stories:
  • The 6 days of Creation
  • Adam and Eve
  • Cain and Abel
  • The Flood
  • The Tower of Babel
And finally, we come to the Creation of the Monotheistic faiths through our common progenitors, Abraham and Sarah. God’s Command, Lech Lecha is not merely an invitation to change their horizons and seek their fortune, it is, in the most basic sense, a radical transformation – a new way to see the world and our relationship with our Creator.

Tonight, as we sit in this holy place and once again read this foundation story of Am Yisrael – the nation of Israel: this story of an uncertain future and a blind faith in God -  we also are acutely aware that there is another, parallel narrative taking place– one that is both ancient and new and that resonates deep within our collective psyche and that has been played out for generations – a narrative of persecution and hatred.

Last weekend, as we heard the news of the foiled attempt to bomb our sister congregation, Temple Emanuel of Pueblo, it was hard for many of us not to give in to the twin demons of demoralization and fear that have increasingly been part of our daily consciousness. As we all know, documented cases of anti-Semitic violence have risen exponentially over the last 3 years as the boundaries of civil discourse and mutual respect have been rapidly deconstructed and racists and hate mongers have become emboldened.

Pueblo now joins Pittsburgh and Poway as the most recent symbols of the toxicity of hatred that is poisoning our nation. And we in the United States are not alone. Throughout Europe and, indeed all over the world, Anti-Semitism is on the rise. In England, leaders of the Labour party have been blatant with their anti-Semitic scapegoating  Just yesterday we learned that an 89-year-old Italian Holocaust survivor and “Senator for Life,” Liliana Segre has been assigned police protection as a result of a barrage of anti-Semitic messages that emerged after she called for the Italian Parliament to establish a committee to combat hate. Jews in France, Argentina and around the globe are fleeing their homelands due to anti-Semitism and moving to Israel.

Over the past week, I – and every Jewish leader in Colorado – have been trying to find ways to deal with what happened in Pueblo. The answer is not so simple. The truth is, that even though the perpetrator was captured before he could carry out any physical damage (thank God), we have not emerged from this incident unharmed.  The residual effect of the news that White Supremacists are feeling emboldened enough to attempt such a heinous action has sent shockwaves through our community that have damaged our sense of safety and complacency.

On the same day that the Pueblo bomber was caught, Anti-Semites dressed as ChasidicJews were passing out literature here in Denver and in Boulder that claimed, among other things, that the Holocaust never happened, and that Jews were responsible for 9-11.

There is a painful irony in the fact that on this Shabbat when we come together in the aftermath of these events, we are also acknowledging the fact that tonight marks the 81st anniversary of Kristallnacht – the “night of the broken glass.” On November 9th, 1938, brown-shirted Nazi Thugs carried out pogroms throughout Germany – destroying Jewish homes, businesses and synagogues while arresting over 30,000 Jewish men, publicly beating them and sending them off to Concentration camps in what history has now come to understand as a “test run” for the final solution.  The deafening silence from world leaders in the aftermath of Kristallnacht was an ominous foreshadowing of the complacency of the “civilized” world in the face of the genocide of European Jewry.

My mother and her parents lived through Kristallnacht and, luckily were able to leave Germany one month later– leaving behind everything that they knew in order to start a new life in a mysterious and unknown land called America. They were among the fortunate. Too many others did not have that option – and paid the ultimate price as a result. The quota system and the Antisemitism of the State Department during Roosevelt’s administration has been clearly documented. The only reason that they were able to come to the United States was, ironically, because my Grandparents were not allowed to hold German passports. They came to Germany in the 1920’s from the Ukraine and because of the rampant official anti-Semitism of the third Reich, they had to keep their Russian passports.  Since no Jews by that time could leave the Soviet Union, they were permitted to enter the US under the Russian quota.  That is why I stand before you today.

For many of us, as Jews and as a nation, we are finding ourselves, like Abram and Sarai, entering uncharted territory. Like our Biblical ancestors, we do not know what we will encounter as we travel on our journey into the future. Each step we take brings us further away from the touchstones we thought we could count on to steady ourselves as individuals and as a nation. We are in shock – we don’t know where to turn. 

So how do we deal with the fear and uncertainty that these recent events have caused within us? If my mother was still alive today, I know that she would have been traumatized as she relived the painful memories of her childhood in Germany. In many ways, although I miss her dearly, I can give thanks that she is not with us and experiencing these events.

And yet, even in our darkness, it is important to remember that, unlike the Jewish communities of Germany in the 1930’s, we are not alone. I cannot tell you how many political, religious and community leaders have reached out to me personally and to our congregation at large in the aftermath of last weekend’s events. Initially, when people heard that “Temple Emanuel In Colorado” was targeted, I received messages from all over the world asking about my safety and that of our congregation.  When it because clear that it was Pueblo, and not Denver that was the target, the calls did not stop coming. People of good faith – Muslims, Christians, politicians and lay people all were deeply disturbed by the situation. Just as our sanctuary was filled in the immediate aftermath of the Tree of Life Synagogue tragedy, so too, today, our neighbors and friends have shown us the courage of their convictions and stood in solidarity.

Two nights ago, I attended the ADL Torch of Liberty Annual event. Our dear friend and past president of Temple Emanuel, Scott Levin – the regional Director of the ADL – in his remarks said that the best way for us to combat hatred is to never allow it to have power over us. Instead of hiding our Jewishness, we should flaunt it. He shared that he was now wearing a Kippah all of the time. He encouraged us all to step forward, to “Go forth” and proclaim not only the fact that we are Jewish – but that we are proud of it at the same time.

Our task, as we go forth in the aftermath of these disturbing events,  is to speak up and make our voices heard if and when we see injustice and bigotry injected into our daily lives. Our character will be on display as we go forth into this wilderness. Will we be able to speak truth to power?  Will we be voices of conscience, compassion and consistency, or will we allow the waves of ugliness that the current climate has unleashed go unchecked?

In addition to commemorating Kristallnacht, tonight is also the Yahrtzeit of the singer/songwriter and poet, Leonard Cohen. His powerful song, Anthem, contains the following: “There is a crack, a crack in everything that's how the light gets in.”
Every tragedy provides us with an opportunity to reflect and appreciate the good that comes with the bad. Tonight, even in our fear, anger and confusion, we can give thanks for those who shed light – through their support, their determination to fight evil and their ability to help us see that we are not alone. For this we can give thanks. As I conclude my remarks, I want to invite Cantor Sacks and Ken Mervine, our pianist, to join me as we sing Cohen’s song.

The birds they sang, At the break of day
Start again - I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
Has passed away
Or what is yet to be
Yeah the wars they will Be fought again
The holy dove, She will be caught again
Bought and sold, And bought again
The dove is never free

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in

We asked for signs - The signs were sent
The birth betrayed -The marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood- Of every government
Signs for all to see

I can't run no more With that lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
Say their prayers out loud
But they've summoned, they've summoned up A thundercloud
And they're going to hear from me

 Shabbat Shalom