The Western Wall on Tisha B'Av |
A
Rationale for the Fast
Friday,
27 July 2012
Some
years ago, whilst serving in the US Navy I volunteered for aircrew duty. As a candidate for combat flight, I had to
attend a course called SERE. The name is
an acronym for Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape. Someday, I will be happy to regale you with
some stories from this unique training. For
now, suffice it to say that we had to march vigorously through a forest for
three days with nothing to eat and very little to drink, whilst being pursued
relentlessly by a simulated enemy. On
the third day, as I sat on a mountainside resting before the next task, I had
an epiphany. I thought, Now I know that Yom Kippur is no big
deal. And since then, I have never
complained about having to fast: not on
Yom Kippur, not on any other day of obligation, and not for any medical test.
This
is Shabbat Hazon, the Shabbat immediately preceding the Fast of Tisha
B’Av. Fast days are problematic for us
Jews today. I’m not sure why, but I do
have some thoughts on the matter.
It’s
not because of the greying of our congregations. After all, anyone with a health condition
that contraindicates fasting, and that includes many seniors, is not only
exempt from fasting but is prohibited from
doing so under Jewish law. Also,
pregnant or nursing mothers, among others.
I
think the difficulty of observing fast days stems from ‘Religious Obligation Fatigue.’
We bristle at the notion that, because we are Jews, we are obligated to do this
or refrain from doing that. And this
mindset is particularly true in Progressive Jewish Circles.
I’ve
been told: “I’m Reform. We don’t do kashrut.” Or fasts.
Or learn Hebrew. Or
whatever. There’s no question that some Jews
who gravitate toward the Progressive expression, do so based on a desire for a
Judaism that carries little – or no – element of obligation.
Without
that element of obligation, there’s really no Judaism. Most religion is based on some degree of
obligation, and our religion epitomizes this.
But Judaism, even in its most vigorous forms, does not demand an ascetic
lifestyle of us. If we’re living in
accordance with Torah, we’re living lives of joy, celebration, and yes, even
fun! But our Tradition does make demands of us. So if we’re required to fast a handful of
days per year, assuming good health and constitution, it shouldn’t be a big
deal.
But
the idea of ‘obligation’ doesn’t resonate in this age. Perhaps this is because contemporary life in
the secular realm imposes so many
obligations upon us.
Our
elevated desire for stuff and the
impermanence of our marriage commitments forces women to engage in high powered
careers and child-rearing, rather
than choosing between the two. As
difficult as that choice can be, it probably isn’t nearly as hard as doing both…and
doing both well. So many of our women, even though they
continually surprise us with what they are capable of accomplishing, feel
stretched thin and stressed out.
On
the subject of women! The sexual
revolution, my generation’s great ‘gift’ to the world, has brought women little
joy. Perhaps it should have freed women
to enjoy sexual pleasure without worrying about the consequences of an
unplanned or unwanted pregnancy. Instead,
it has made women feel forced to behave in the way that men do by instinct – to
engage in serial casual relationships.
This, in order to ‘prove’ that they’re ‘liberated’ and freed from the
constraints of bygone eras. This, even
though study after study shows that such behaviours bring women little or no
lasting joy.
How
about all the ways that we are able to instantly communicate with one another
no matter where we happen to be? These
should be a blessing, but they have become a burden that prevents us from
relaxing and unwinding. Our weekly work
hours have crept upward, and our ability to communicate blurs the line between
work and leisure. As a result, we seldom
feel really relaxed.
Perhaps
with all these additional ‘obligations’ imposed by contemporary life, it is not
surprising that we rebel in the one area where we feel free to do so –
religion. To the ‘enlightened’
contemporary spirit, religion is after all a relic. Many of us ‘cling’ to religion beyond reason,
despite having been stripped of our faith long ago, out of a sense of loyalty,
habit, or both. Since we cannot rationally
defend religious faith, we prefer it ‘lite.’
We want the ‘good’ effect of religion – the sense of belonging, the
comfort of continuity, and the certainty of eternity – without it making any
undue demands upon us.
Fast
days, then are really a hard sell. And
this one, the Fast of Tisha B’Av that will begin at sunset tomorrow, is a
particularly difficult sell in our Progressive communities.
What
we’re commemorating with this fast, most elementally, is that both the First
and Second Temples were destroyed on this day: in the years 586 BCE and 70 CE,
respectively. So we’re mourning with
this fast, that we no longer have the capability of offering animal and
material sacrifices upon the fiery altar on Mt. Zion. Now don’t get all broken up about that…
Seriously,
I’m guessing there are few in this room tonight who in their heart or hearts,
wish for the return of the priestly cultus.
Many Jews do so wish. Among Orthodox Jews there is an intense
longing for the coming of the Messianic Age.
This epoch, it is envisioned, will see the rebuilding of the Temple and the
resumption of its sacrifices. But not
all Jews share that sentiment. If not, why
mourn publicly, including fasting, to commemorate the destruction of the means
for conducting the sacrifices?
Maybe
it adds to the motivation to fast and mourn that other, more recent tragic
events have happened on Tisha B’Av. The
Jews were expelled from England by royal decree on the Ninth of Av in
1290. And from Spain in 1492. In 1914 on this Hebrew date, Germany declared
war on Russia. In the minds of many
historians of the 20th century, this outbreak of the First World War
actually set the stage for the Second World War – and the Shoah. Fast forward to the 1940’s. Himmler presented the blueprint for the Final
Solution on this day in 1940. And in
1942, the siege of the Warsaw Ghetto began.
So even if the idea of mourning the
fall of the two Temples doesn’t move you to fast, it’s hard not to see the
tragic element in the totality of tzuress
that has befallen the Jews on Tisha B’Av.
One would have to be heartless to look at this great sweep of events and
not wonder; what convergence of forces caused all those tragedies on this
particular day in various years of our history?
The
rabbis suggest that the biggest tragedy of the fall of the two Temples is that
neither had to happen, and neither would have happened except for baseless
hatred of Jew against Jew. This sin’at hinam weakens us, enabling
outside forces to exploit that weakness for their malevolent ends.
If we accept this notion, then the
lesson is clear. Jewish disunity, to the
point of baseless hatred, opens the door for bad things – very bad things – to happen to us.
We’ve always got an enemy waiting to destroy us. We like to shrey gevalt about that, and perhaps we should. But must we make that enemy’s ‘job’ easier by
weakening our people with baseless hatred of Jew against Jew?
This
is not to ‘blame the victim.’ But there’s no good reason the Jews should be victims again and again. Even if it’s a given that we’re never going
to agree on everything, why can’t we love our fellow Jew through our
disagreements? Why must we be so
stalwart in our opinions, that we have trouble seeing the merits of those who
differ?
Rabbi
Irving ‘Yitz’ Greenberg, founder of Clal, said of Jewish sectarianism: “It doesn’t matter what movement in Jewish
life you belong to. As long as you’re
ashamed of it.” What I think he meant, is that we should hold our own movement
up to the highest standards. We should
be ashamed when our own movement doesn’t live up to its promise. This, instead of resenting the other
movements for their shortcomings. Greenberg is an Orthodox rabbi. This Progressive rabbi agrees, and wishes his
own movement would do better.
This
is why you’ve heard me express dissatisfaction with Progressive Judaism
tonight. I’m proud to be a Progressive
Jew. But I’m ashamed of the ways that we
do not live up to our potential as Jews.
It concerns me when we cannot model for our children a joyful and
positive religious faith worth emulating.
It concerns me when I hear endless criticism of more traditional streams
of Judaism from among our members.
This
is something worth thinking about as we prepare for Tisha B’Av. And if it’s worth thinking about, it’s worth acting upon. Perhaps you shall fast starting tomorrow
night, or perhaps you shall not.
Whichever the case may be, I hope you will take some time out to feel
ashamed for the ways you fail to have positive regard for your fellow Jew. Think about the unrealized potential; not
only of our own Progressive Movement, but of the Jewish people as a whole. If there were a keener sense of Jewish unity,
we would be farther down the path of realizing our potential. And we would be far less susceptible to the
evil designs of our enemies.
It’s
no fun to go without food and drink for 24 hours. It’s not fun to have nagging obligations deter
us from enjoying our weekend. But I’m
willing to do this, to help me to focus on what I need to do as a Jew. I’m willing to do this, to help me remember
to love my fellow Jew. I’m willing to do
this, to prepare myself to be a positive force in bringing unity and the
strength that brings. Will you join me?
Member of Black September on the balcony of the Israeli Athletes' Apartment in Munich, 1972 |
Why
Make the Olympics into Something They’re Not?
Saturday,
28 July 2012
I’m
going to make a confession. I’m not a
big fan of the Olympic Games, or of large-scale sporting games or contests in
general. I never have been. Over the years, people have looked upon me as
un-manly or as otherwise suspect for my lack of interest in watching sports on
television or going to the stadium to take in a game. But it’s just the way that
I am.
And I’ll be happy to tell you why I am the way I am. I don’t find that athletic contests uplift
the soul. I have never had a talent for
sports. I completely lack the skills
necessary to throw, catch, run and whatnot.
As a child, I was always the odd one left standing after the two teams
had chosen sides, or I was the last one chosen.
In sports such as baseball or football, I could be consigned to a
position where I wouldn’t damage the team’s chances too much. In a rotating position sport such as
volleyball where I could not be shunted aside, my teammates were always
invading my play zone. This, because
they didn’t believe that I would perform at a critical moment. So the whole youth athletics thing was
heartbreaking for me, not uplifting. And
the heartbreaking aspect is not that I do not excel in such contests. It’s that children, even at a very young age,
are focused on winning to the
exclusion of all other benefit from sport.
So I never pushed my children to go
out for sports. I would never be one of
those parents who try to live out their dreams of athletic glory, and the
disappointments of their own failures, through their children. I just wanted my children, when they weren’t
busy with school work, to have fun.
Some people think that athletics build
character, and I’m sure they can. But
the generalisation is inaccurate. Look
at the scandals that plague athletics, both amateur and professional. Look at the number of times that elite
athletes have engaged in doping, or taken steroids or other
performance-enhancing drugs. Look at the
aggressive and anti-social behaviour of so many elite athletes, both on and off
the field.
But the tawdry behaviour is not
limited to the athletes themselves. No,
elite athletic contests, whether amateur or professional, seem to bring out the
worst in their coaches, organisers, and officials. And fans! None of those involved seems to be free of
pressures to behave in unethical ways, and many succumb to the pressures.
The joy of sport is not lost on
me. But it is tempered by the way that
sport seems to make people behave. Combined
with my own experiences where playing sports was more an ordeal than a joy, it
leads me to see sport as something that can
be positive…but often, sadly, is not.
It’s seldom about building character.
It’s simply about winning. And
that, in and of itself, is not necessarily a bad thing. But it’s no great virtue either.
For that reason, I’m not terribly up
in arms about the controversy over the Summer Olympics about to kick off in
London this weekend. Unless you have spent
the past few weeks buried in the sand or on a deserted island without TV and cell
phone service, you know what I’m talking about.
This Olympic Games marks the 40th anniversary of what is
arguably the most tragic event in the history of the games. 40 years ago, terrorists of Black September
stormed one of the apartments of the Israeli Olympic team in Munich, took 11
members of the team hostage, and murdered all of them. One German officer was also killed in a
failed rescue attempt.
It is not to the shame of the Olympic
Games that this attack happened. Nobody
blames the Olympics for the savagery and opportunism of the Palestinian
terrorists. It was clear, as has been
abundantly documented for the record that the West German government wilfully failed
to prepare for the eventuality of the attack despite being tipped off in
advance. They also badly botched the
rescue attempt. These shortcomings were
not the fault of the Olympic organisers or participants. But it can be argued that it was to the shame
of the event’s organisers and participants that the games went on almost as if
the hostage-taking had not taken place. And
I am hereby making that argument. Only a
handful of individual athletes withdrew from the game in solidarity with their
murdered Israeli colleagues. The team of
the Philippines returned home. The
Egyptian and Algerian teams left, but preposterously because they stated they
feared Israeli reprisals against them, not out of protest for the murdered
Israelis.
It is also to the shame of the Olympic
Games, that a minute of silence was not observed last night during the games’
opening ceremonies in remembrance of the 40th yahrzeit of the murdered Israeli athletes. In 2010 at the Winter Olympics in Vancouver,
a moment of silence was observed for an athlete who died in a training accident
while preparing for the games. Nobody
minded. But the International Olympic Committee
has repeatedly declined to hold a moment of silence for the Israeli
athletes. And not just this year. This year’s campaign for a moment of silence
is a replay of a similar campaign during the run-up to the 2002 Winter Games,
marking the Israelis’ 30th yahrzeit.
It is unfortunate that some of us Jews
believe that the world does not care about the lives of Jews. It is unfortunate that some of us Jews believe
that we are actively hated by people all around the world, from a wide variety
of religious and national traditions. But
it is most unfortunate that events
such as the Olympic Games’ clear callousness toward the Israeli athletes
murdered 40 years ago, give even the Jew who is not inclined to paranoia, cause
to think these things. And remember that
thinking the world is against you doesn’t necessarily make you paranoid. Especially when there is enough evidence of
the world’s being against you to make a rational case for the existence of that
hatred. And I think that there is enough
evidence, by a mile.
What should individual delegations,
including the Israelis, do? I’m not the
one to prescribe. But I think a number
of meaningful gestures are possible. Teams
could march into the stadium wearing black armbands. Or with their national colours at half-mast. There are a number of ways to make a clear statement
while still participating. But I don’t
know about you; I’m not holding my breath waiting to see what the various
delegations do. Even the American and
Australian teams, even after President Obama and Prime Minister Gillard publicly
advocated for the moment of silence.
So watch the Olympics, cheer for the
winners of the various contests, and root for the Australians – or whoever rates
your loyalties – to bring home medals. Enjoy
the games. Take pleasure at the sight of
young people reaching for their personal best.
But do not be fooled into thinking that sporting contests and the
athletes who compete in them represent that which is best in a nation. To be sure, there are many athletes who are outstanding young citizens. But there are many competing who sadly, care
only about themselves. And do not be
fooled into thinking that the Glory of Sport is a pure spirit that brings
goodness into the world. Sport is
exciting and fun. But there is nothing
especially ‘pure’ about sport or its participants. And there is nothing especially ‘pure’ about
the Olympic Movement in particular. As
soon as we accept that, we can cease being continually disappointed by its
organisers and participants.
But even though I advocate we not be
overly exercised at the Olympic Movement, doesn’t mean we do not express our
most profound grief and disappointment through prayer. To that end, in a few minutes when we stand
to unite our voices in the Mourners’ Kaddish, I shall to offer the prayer of
the Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom, Lord Jonathan Sacks, to mark the 40th
yahrzeit of the Israeli athletes.
(The
prayer reads:)
Almighty
God:
We,
the members of this holy congregation,
Together
with members of all World Jewry and the Righteous of the Nations who are so
moved,
(The
previous line in Lord Sacks’ prayer reads “Together with members of the United
Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth”)
Join
our prayers to the prayers of others throughout the world,
In
remembrance of the eleven Israeli athletes
Brutally
murdered in an act of terrorism,
At
the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich,
Because
they were Israelis,
Because
they were Jews.
At
this time in the Jewish year,
When
we remember the destructions of our holy Temples,
And
the many tragedies that have befallen our people throughout history,
We
mourn their loss
And
continue to protest against those who hate our people.
We
pray to You, O God:
Comfort
the families and friends of the Israeli athletes who continue to grieve
And
grant eternal life to those so cruelly robbed of life on earth.
Just
as we are united in grief,
Help
us stay united in hope.
As
we comfort one another under the shadow of death,
Help
us strengthen one another in honouring life.
The
Olympic message is one of peace, of harmony and of unity,
Teach
us, Almighty God, to bring reconciliation and respect between faiths,
As
we pray for the peace of Israel,
And
for the peace of the world.
May
this be Your will and let us say: Amen
Lord
of the Ages, remember...
David
Berger
Yossef
Gutfreund
Moshe
Weinberg
Eliezer
Halfin
Mark
Slavin
Yossef
Romano
Kehat
Shorr
Andre
Spitzer
Amitzur
Shapira
Yakov
Springer
Ze’ev
Friedman
(In
Hebrew) …who have gone on to Eternity, by the merit that all of us pray for the
remembrance of their souls. Please, G-d
of Mercy and Forgiveness, let their souls be bound up in the bond of life, and
may their rest be honour, and let us say, Amen.
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