Monuments
How many of you saw the film “The Monuments Men”? It is a dramatisation of the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program established by the United States and Britain during the second World War. Although the film is only so-so and its history is a bit incorrect, the actual project played an heroic role in the “preservation, protection, and restitution of monuments, works of art, and artifacts of cultural importance” before the Nazis could destroy or steal them. The film asks two questions: Was the effort to save these cultural treasures, at the cost of human life, worthwhile? And, what do works of art and monuments say about who we are?
Monuments and memorials have become big news. Monuments erected in the 1920s to honour Confederate heroes have been coming down around the United States. The battles over these statues have sparked scrutiny of other monuments and raised questions about how to properly recognise and reevaluate people who once were thought to be honourable.
This summer, representing Masorti Jews of the Diaspora, I was at the President's Residence, for study session that President Rivlin convenes prior to Tisha B’av, to stress the importance of mutual respect. In the beautiful sculpture garden, there are busts of all former presidents. New were informational plaques behind each bust. The one for former president Katsav states in English, Hebrew, and Arabic that he resigned from the presidency in 2007 after being indicted for sexual offenses and was later sentenced to seven years in prison in 2011.
In Ottawa, the Langevin block is named after Hector-Louis Langevin, a father of Confederation who proposed the creation of the residential school system as the quickest way to assimilate First Nations children into Euro-Canadian society. The building will now be known as The Office of the Prime Minister and the Privy Council.
Josette and I were in Kingston when the suggestion was made by a teachers union that schools named after the first Prime Minister of Canada and the architect of Confederation, Sir John A MacDonald, be renamed, because MacDonald was also one of the architects of the residential school system.
This week, the Canadian Rabbinic Caucus convened a coast-to-coast phone call with the Prime Minister where, in addition to wishing our communities a g’mar hatimah tovah, he spoke of the impact of his visit last year to Auschwitz and the importance of the newly dedicated Holocaust Memorial.
Memorials are erected, artworks commissioned and buildings named to preserve a particular perspective on the past. As families consider what epitaph to place on a cemetery monument, they are determining how they want a person to be remembered.
When we revisit the past, we may have different feelings about what an earlier generation venerated. Should we remove, rename, replaque or simply ignore. Memory is complex.
In the old days, Jews were not welcome in churches. There is a story about Avram who went into church, took out his tallit, kippah, and proceeded to pray. The priest announced, “We are about to begin our worship, "Will all non-Catholics please leave." Avram continued davening.
Again the priest said, "Will all non-Christians please leave."
Again, Avram prayed.
Finally, the distraught priest stood near Avram. "Will ALL JEWS please leave."
At this, Avram removed his kippah and packed up his tallit. He approached the altar, picked up a statue of Jesus and said, "Come bubbela, they don't want us here anymore."
I hope some of you read the article from The Wall Street Journal, reproduced and available outside, calling attention to the large painting by Jules Olitski, which graces the entrance wall to our congregation. He titled this installation “Elyon,” which means “on high,” and used the Magen David to signify both the yellow star of the Holocaust and the tribes of Israel seeking spiritual heights.
Today, we remember through Yizkor people who made a difference in our lives, but people are complex and so are our memories. I want to speak with you today about Akiva, Rachel, Yossi and Micah.
Akiva
In musaf today, we recall the martyrdom of Rabbi Akiva. The Talmud describes him as unlettered until the age of 40, but he became devoted to Torah study (it drips like water on a rock and slowly I am changed). Akiva is credited with preserving early rabbinic traditions and organising them so that the Mishnah could be produced.
Another tradition tells us that his wife was dismissed from her family because she married Akiva, an ignorant shepherd. She sent him to study and he stayed away for 12 years. When he returned, he overheard her say, “I wish he would continue to study,” so he left without entering the house and studied another 12 years. We would find this to be an unacceptable model for married life, but the Talmud describes them as deeply in love.
Rabbi Akiva is celebrated as Rosh la-Hakhamim, "Chief of the Sages”, yet he was passed over by colleagues when a new head was selected for the Sanhedrin. Akiva entered the garden of mystical experience, one who interpreted the love expressed in Song of Songs to be for God, yet he emphasised human love as the great principle of Torah. Akiva was killed by the Romans, but he contributed to the war by imagining that Bar Kochba was the messiah.
Our heroes - historical and spiritual - are complex. Can we honor them, even when we don’t fully understand them? Can we respect them even though there are elements of their lives that we question?
Rachel
My mother, Rachel, was a brilliant student who left Poland before the invasion of the Nazis to enter Marquette University in 1939. A chemist for many years, she became mentally unstable, unable to maintain a job or an apartment for long. A pre-Holocaust immigrant, she was tormented by the loss of her family and often imagined them still alive.
My mother, who was divorced, raised me with much personal love and great devotion to Judaism, but I had to keep her out of my adult life as married student and later as a rabbi to preserve my sanity. A beautiful and social woman, she lived alone, with a nearby library and synagogue as places to be with others. I gradually learned accept the good from her and to winnow out the more troubling aspects of our relationship.
Yossi and Micha
This summer, Josette and I joined CIJA leadership to accompany some Canadian parliamentarians in Jerusalem and Ramallah. We spent an evening with an old friend, Yossi Klein Halevi, the author and journalist, who sought to explain to the Canadian leaders some of the complexity that frames the realities of Israeli life.
Yossi told them that Israel is admired and hated. Israel is admired for its high tech “start up nation” capacities, and, by many Christians, for its development of the land that God promised to the descendants of Avraham and Sarah. Israel is hated by those who see it as a colonial power that oppresses the Palestinian people.
Adding to the complexity, Israel is a secular state in a religious region. It was created by Eastern European Zionists and Middle Eastern refugees. It is a Jewish nation with a significant Arab minority. It is a homeland for Jews who are not citizens, at the same time as it is a state of its citizens, not all of whom are Jews.
Last night I spoke about the religious conflict between the very observant and the secularized, moderately traditional community. The other bitter battle tearing at the fabric of Israeli society is the political conflict between Right and Left that has been developing since the Six Day War, 50 years ago.
Yossi focused on the political issues with the Parliamentarians. He offered them four statements about Israel:
• Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East (so it is a test case for democracies under siege).
• Israel is the only democracy that is a long-term occupier of another people (not of another land).
• Israel is the only occupier that fears withdrawal.
• Israel is the only country that faces a death threat from its neighbours.
We should be concerned for the security of Israel. In addition to the immediate threats on its borders, we recognise the existential danger it faces from Iran. Iran exports instability and terror. If Iran, like North Korea, were to develop a nuclear umbrella, imagine what it might do. Recently the chief of Iran’s army threatened “We will destroy the [Zionist] entity at lightning speed, and thus shorten the 25 years it still has left.”
But not all the issues are outside the borders of Israel. Polls indicate that 60% of Israelis want negotiations with Palestinians, but only 17% believe that there is a partner for peace. Israelis distrust Palestinian intentions and fear for security within a slimmed down state.
Yossi echoed a new book, the hottest read in Israel this year, מלכוד67, Catch 67. Written by Micah Goodman, the book begins and ends with a well-known passage from the Talmud:
For three years, there was a dispute between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel [over halakhah]. It was resolved when a divine oracle (bat kol) announced: both are the words of the living God, but the Halacha… is with Beit Hillel. (Eruvin 13b -Yevamot 14b).
According to Micha, in Israel there are two contemporary examples of Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai. They are each true and contradict one another:
“The Right believes that withdrawing from the hills of Judea and Samaria will shrink Israel to tiny proportions, making it a weak and vulnerable country that will eventually collapse. The Left believes that the continued Israeli presence in the territories will crumble Israel morally, isolate it politically and crush it demographically.”
A majority want to end military control over millions of Palestinians. They favour negotiations to ensure Israel’s future as an internationally accepted state with a Jewish majority. Yet the same majority believes they cannot safely withdraw from Judea and Samaria, the historic heartland of the Jewish people and the centre of any future Palestinian state.
Remaining in the West Bank or leaving it could spell the end of Israel. Israel is trapped in Catch 67. As Woody Allen once observed: “More than any other time in history, [we] face a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly.”
Micah articulates something that I have heard repeatedly from Israeli and Palestinian leaders. “The reality now is that wars are not decisive… Peace is not, either. There are no more 1967 victories. There is no ultimate peace.” Instead of a final agreement, Micah suggests models for a partial peace based on partial withdrawal or partial statehood. He wants to “shrink the amount of occupation without dramatically shrinking the amount of security for Israelis.”
In a long review in Haaretz, Micah’s thesis was criticised by former Prime Minister Ehud Barak. How often does a former general review a book by a philosopher? Barak thinks that Goodman overstates the security risk of withdrawal. Goodman also has been criticised by the right because he believes that “the occupation does not lead to a lack of morality, the occupation itself is immoral.”
As a scholar of medieval philosophy, Micah hopes that Israelis will struggle with hard questions. The first step to escape Catch 67 is to stop thinking in binary terms about peace and occupation. He urges us to consider instead what it would look like if Israel committed itself to more peace and to less occupation. He offers some suggestions, but that isn’t for us now.
If both Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai were right, why did halakhah follow Beit Hillel? The Talmud offers a reason. The students of Beit Hillel were first taught the views of Beit Shammai and listened to them with respect. Beit Shammai, in contrast, did not teach the other perspective and listened only to themselves. Shlomo Maital writes, “I hope Catch 67 will help us Israelis become listeners, rather than screamers. … Can Jews listen to one another? Can Jews listen to Palestinians – and vice versa? A peace agreement will begin with a small step toward empathy and dialogue, not a huge leap to an imaginary final deal.”
Questions for Yizkor and Life
As we prepare for Yizkor, I want you to think about these questions:
Should we maintain controversial monuments and relabel them?
Should some be removed entirely?
Can we support Israel even when we don’t agree with a particular policy?
Can we disagree about Israeli policies without a major fight?
Is it possible to have listening dialogues within our living families?
Is it possible to recall our loved ones with all their complexity?
The Talmud teaches that good people don’t require monuments,
“מעשיהםהםהםמצבותם ~ Their deeds are their memorials.” I hope that your memories — however complex — will recall your loved ones with a holistic compassion.
One day, we will want that compassion for ourselves… someday.
~~~
This is time to ask you to consider an investment in Israel. The purchase of an Israel Bond shows your commitment to Israel even if you disagree about a particular policy. I don’t agree with every policy of Canada or the United States, but I do love each of these countries. The same holds for Israel.
A Bond investment might be for yourselves, for a bar/bat mitzvah, or for a wedding couple. You might decide to purchase and donate, a double mitzvah. If that is your plan, please consider gifting the bond to Beth Tzedec or to Masorti Conservative Judaism in Israel. Help to build the spiritual and cultural infrastructure of Masorti in Israel.
References:
https://hartman.org.il/Blogs_View.asp?Article_Id=1818&Cat_Id=430&Cat_Type=
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/06/06/opinion/israel-1967-war.html
http://www.jpost.com/In-Jerusalem/Catch-67-499380
https://www.haaretz.com/israel-news/.premium-1.788659
https://www.haaretz.com/opinion/.premium-1.789809
https://www.timesofisrael.com/a-gentler-war/
https://besacenter.org/perspectives-papers/overdramatization-israel-dilemma/
