Shabbat shalom from CHC Parsha Ki Titzei this week. Rabbi Ralph Genende Keeps In Touch In May 1938, the Irish poet William Yeats wrote a poem called “Politics”. While it doesn’t explicitly mention the rise of Nazism, the threat and fear of war is ominously present: “And maybe what they say is true Of war and war’s alarms” In the poem Yeats writes of his resistance to thinking of war, to fixing his attention “on Roman, on Russian or on Spanish politics” when there is a beautiful girl standing in front of him capturing his attention: “But Oh that I were young again And held her in my arms” I have thought of this poem often over the past months, a time when war and its alarms have constantly sounded through Israel and enveloped the entire Middle East, not to mention Ukraine. It’s been a hard and harrowing time for Jews across the world, hard not to fix our attention on politics. Yeats prefaces his poem with a quote from the novelist Thomas Mann whose German citizenship had been revoked by the Nazis and who had been forced to flee to the USA: “In our time, the destiny of man presents its meaning in political terms.” Our destiny, today is once again being played out by the politics of a perverse and brutal fascist force except this time it’s not Nazis but ISIS… Yet even as we become absorbed by politics, life carries on in our communities and families. How do you carry on as normal when the stories are heartbreaking, when the threats are chilling; the video purporting to show journalist James Foley being beheaded is just the latest of the numbing catalogue. I thought of this last weekend when I was in Noosa for a wedding. It seemed wrong to be in this enchanting part of Australia where the sea and sky, sand and surf unwind into infinity, where war and its wounds were as distant as the stars bursting out the nightscape. It seemed insensitive to be celebrating a wedding when Israeli families were crouching in shelters or sitting shiva. Then I thought of the Talmud (Kettubot 17a): “Our rabbis taught: One causes a funeral procession to make way for a bridal procession and both make way for a King of Israel. One tells of King Agrippa that he gave way for a bride and the rabbis praised him (for forgoing his honour…)” The rabbis knew well about suffering as so many of them had lived through Roman persecution and seen far too many funerals. Yet they maintained the view that life still comes before death, a wedding before a funeral. They who had enshrined the study of Torah as the greatest mitzvah “out-weighing all others”, they were the ones who taught: “One interrupts the study of Torah… to lead a bride to the Chuppah.” To affirm life in the face of death was one of their outstanding contributions to Jewish destiny. They shaped us into a nation that would temper its trials by a resilience and resoluteness,that would overcome its tragedies through belief, justice and hope for the future. The name Noosa comes from the Aboriginal for shadows or shade but you could argue it has a Hebrew shoresh or origin! After all, Noosa sounds like “nasa”, “nisa” and “ness”. Nasa means to travel or carry, Nisa to test, Nes is a miracle and then there is also Nisuin which means marriage. A wedding incorporates the notion of a shared journey, challenge, mutual sharing (carrying the load) and the miracle of two individuals coming together in love. Extrapolating a little more, being in Noosa was also a reminder that the journey of the Jewish people has always been fraught, filled with confrontations. We have been tested innumerable times – “in every generation they rise up to destroy us”; the current antipathy towards us is just the latest virulent expression of an ancient, toxic strain of anti-Semitism. But we have stood firm by standing together; sharing the exquisite burden of our mission, opposing the ugly weight of hostility. Jewish unity (in Israel and the Diaspora) more elusive than lasting, has been one of the inspiring and affirming outcomes of the past months. The guns and rockets have now been stilled and the threats of war and its alarms diminished in Gaza. The world however, especially across Syria and Iraq, has become even more dangerous with the rise of acute Islamic extremism – the journey is far from ended and increased Australian involvement in the Middle East is a very real possibility. The purpose of Islamic fanaticism is to sow fear, to disrupt the pattern of our lives. We need to fight it on all fronts – military, political, religious and social. We especially need to carry on focusing on the bride “over there”, the Barmitzvah boy over here, the simcha happening now and the community building everywhere. So as we move into the month of Elul towards Rosh Hashanah let’s remember it’s a time of hope and closeness as reflected in the Hebrew letters of Elul which spells out a verse in Song of Songs “Ani Ledodi Vedodi Li ” – I am for my beloved, my beloved is for me. The rabbi’s say refers to the relationships between God and the Jewish people. Let this month be a one of boldness and strength, of wisdom and in Yeat’s words one in which “we” shall have some peace, for peace comes dropping slow. Shabbat Shalom, Ralph Genende
Posted on: Fri, 29 Aug 2014 06:31:44 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015