Everyone loves a story - particularly a true story and especially a story with a surprise and a happy ending. Even better is when there is a message which we can incorporate into our own lives. In 1943, after more than three years of German control over France, the Great Synagogue of Lyon continued to function. That December 10, the Lyon Milice, the shock troops of the Vichy government, decided to put an end to the Jewish worship. The shuls rabbi survived the war to tell the tale, which is recorded in a book about Klaus Barbie, the infamous Butcher of Lyon (the title, in fact, of the book, by Brendan Murphy - Empire/Harper & Row, 1983). A member of the Milice quietly entered the rear of the sanctuary that Friday night during services. Armed with three hand grenades, he intended to lob them into the crowd of standing worshippers from behind, and to escape before the explosions. After silently opening the door and entering the room unnoticed by anyone but the rabbi (who stood facing the congregation), he pulled the pins. What he saw, though, so shook him that he remained wide-eyed and motionless for a crucial moment, and then only managed to toss the grenades a few feet before fleeing. Several worshippers were injured by shrapnel but none were killed. What had so flabbergasted the Nazi was the sudden, unexpected sight of his intended victims faces, as the congregation, as if on cue, turned as one on its heels to face him. The would-be mass-murderer had entered the shul precisely at boi bshalom, the last stanza of the liturgical poem Lecha Dodi, when worshippers traditionally turn toward the door to welcome the Sabbath. The account came to mind of late because it is, at least to me, a striking reminder of something truly fundamental yet easily forgotten. We Jews often survive on miracles. To be sure, we dont base our belief on them, as do some religions. Maimonides famously wrote that the miracles recounted in the Torah - even the parting of the Red Sea - are demonstrations not of Gods existence but rather of His love for His people. We know God exists because of our carefully preserved historical tradition that He communicated with our ancestors at Mt. Sinai, an event that we celebrate on Shevuot. All the same, though, His love and His miracles underlie our existence. Our tradition teaches that our foremother Sarah was biologically incapable of conceiving a child; the very beginning of our people thus was miraculous. The perseverance of the Jewish people over the millennia is a miracle, as is our rebirth after countless decimations
Posted on: Fri, 19 Dec 2014 18:15:00 +0000