So, how's everyone holding up?
Not too good?
Yeah. I can relate.
I've been thinking out loud with Han—who mostly listens politely then returns to his perpetual doomscrolling—about what is the takeaway here? We've been slammed between the eyes with horror, sadness, fear for our trapped families . . .
I managed to listen to two shiurim last week. The first was redemption of captives via the strict lens of halacha. What is allowed, what is not. I liked it. It kept to clear guidelines, made by the elders of the past, in times when captivity was definitely more common than today.
The second . . . to preface, I usually enjoy this rabbi's thoughts. I'm often very taken with what he has to say. But this time, I was left unsettled.
He made sure to open that we do not judge. No one can say why some were killed and others were spared. But he brought a myriad of anecdotes about how keeping Shabbos seemingly saved a number of individuals. Either they would have been at the rave, or within the kibbutzim themselves, they were ignored by the terrorists.
We should learn, the rabbi said, that we should be upholding Shabbat better. We aren't judging those who were killed! Not at all! But we should still learn from this.
This bothered me. I figured out why.
The rabbi is from a Sephardi community that has a different background than those of Ashkenazim. This community, as a whole, has been slowly progressing in better observance over the years. Nor did they experience the war the way European Jewry did.
That is what I kept thinking. What of the Holocaust? My great-grandparents were all observant. They lived in towns, not vast, cosmopolitan cities, full of impious distractions (the way I practically do). They kept Shabbos. They kept kosher. They kept everything.
Straight to the gas. Along with children and grandchildren.
This Sephardi rabbi doesn't have this history. He doesn't have this narrative. Maybe some Sephardim shrug to themselves that the Ashkenazi Jews had it coming with their Reform movements, with their attending theater on Friday nights. But six million people weren't all the same. Chassidic movements were completely wiped out. Reb Elchonon Wasserman, murdered. Along with my great-grandmother, who would say Tehillim every chance she had. Along with my great-aunt and her six children. Along with my Zeidy's wife and little girl.
Additionally, it's not like the terrorists were from an alien planet. They knew it was Shabbos. They knew it was Yom Tov. They chose that day, specifically, for its sleepiness and relaxation. They knew people's guards would be down.
Third point: Lasting change does not come from fear. Embracing mitzvos must come from a place of free choice. Otherwise it will not last.
So what is, the takeaway, then?
I guess I realized that there isn't one. This is the Jewish experience. We can sit and parse our logic and facts, but I just remember that scene after the pogrom in Anatevka, when the wedding party begins to sadly clean up the damage, and Tevye looks to the sky, asking God "Why?"
Then he continues on, the same Jew, enduring. Like Dara Horn said.
Or maybe it's just b'damayich chaii—by your blood, you shall live. These words I invoked at my sons' brissim. This phrase can have more than one meaning, I realize. For the more they persecute, the more we proliferate.
As Obi-Wan Kenobi said, "If you strike me down, I'll become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
But . . . I'm still so sad.
5 comments:
Like the Holocaust, the uncivilized barbaric acts this past Oct 7 in Israel is unthinkable and heartbreaking. And scary that there are so outcries to Save Palestine and Free them from Israeli Oppression ( I don't get it since Israel has not governed Gaza since 2005) I can't find solace for it anymore than I can with the atrocities of the Holocaust. In regard to your comments about Sephardic Jews, ( not comparing it with the Holocaust) you may want to educate yourself a little about the horrors that Jews from Arab lands lived through. My husband ( age 75) was born in Cairo Egypt. I might suggest a Youtube documentary called, The Forgotten Refugees" that documents the plight of Sephardic Jews in Arab lands. How did these Sephardic Jews get to Arab countries? Oh yeah! ! They escaped with their lives from Spain when they were expelling or murdering Sephardic Jews . Again, nothing outweighs the Holocaust- Thanks for an interesting post.
I'm struggling a lot. So is my wife. We knew much of the world hated us. We didn't know how much. I cycle between depression and anger. I've stopped posting publicly on my anonymous blog. I was too worried that I would receive abuse. I used to post there regularly to process my emotions. Now I only do it behind a password that only a few people have (not all Jewish, but all friends I trust). I did start a non-anonymous blog on The Times of Israel where I share some of the depression and anger (mostly the anger, tbh). I hope it does someone else some good.
Regarding drawing meaning, I think it's much, much too soon. Maybe one day we'll find meaning (which is not the same as an explanation, which I think only HaShem knows). But not yet. It's only been a month. A week or two after 7 October I heard Rabbi Yoni Rosensweig say on the Orthodox Conundrum podcast that, if your reason why this happened is something you already thought, then it's not the right reason, because you already thought it, so HaShem didn't need to use this to teach it. I'm not sure that's 100% true, but I do think we shouldn't rush to use these terrible events to "prove" our existing religious (or political) beliefs. It's hard though, as human minds rush to find familiar patterns in the new and scary, to reassure ourselves on some unconscious level that, "Oh, yeah, if I was in charge, none of this would have happened."
GF: My apologies. Yes, I am aware that the Sephardi community has definitely been persecuted (this rabbi is not Egyptian, for clarity) but I feel that someone who has more a direct, vivid connection to persecutions wouldn't be so quick to announce reasons and blame.
DS: That is true. It is very much too soon. I would say that it is too soon after the Holocaust, and that was 80 years ago.
It is frightening. On the train today there was someone wearing a kafiyeh, and looking rather proud of it. The train had a lot of Jews from my neighborhood too. I just wonder what that guy was thinking towards us.
I am scared to wear my kippah in Central London now, which was not the case before 7 October. I wear a cap or hat over it. My wife is scared to go into town too and she isn't even visibly Jewish. She says she just wonders how many people she sees want us dead.
DS: My father never let my brothers wear their kippas out in NYC, and he doesn't, either. They always wear caps. As a woman no one ever identifies me as Jewish, so I have less of a concern. In the summer I went on the train into NYC with Ben, and his kippa had fallen off and I hadn't put it back on. Everyone was so nice. The way home, he had his kippa on - no one was so nice the way back. This was before October 7.
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