Judaism- An Introduction, page 30
Chant your supplications to God in a melody that makes the heart weep, and your praises of Him in one that will make it sing. Thus you will be filled with love and joy for Him that seeth the heart.
PRAYERS OF CONFESSION
After the cancelling of religious vows, the focus moves to sin. This is a different matter requiring not cancellation but forgiveness and absolution. Attention is firmly fixed on the responsibility of each member of the Jewish people to keep certain ethical demands. The prayers of confession list, in greater and lesser detail, the sins to be forgiven. Like most Jewish prayer, the plural ‘we’ is used throughout, remembering that each person shares the sorrow and, often, the consequences of other people’s sins, but there is a pause after each section for each to confess particular sins privately. The longer form of the confession in the Reform prayer book lists 44 sins. It begins:
For the sin we have committed before You by foolish speech.
And for the sin we have committed before You by misusing our minds.
For the sin we have committed before You by the demands of business.
And for the sin we have committed before You by using violence.
For the sin we have committed before You by bribery.
And for the sin we have committed before You by compulsion.
The Orthodox confession similarly catalogues damaging acts: hasty condemnation, envy, tale bearing, to name but three. Again, there is nothing automatic about confession bringing anyone back to being at one with God. Judaism is very clear that God does not forgive anyone any sin against someone if he or she has not tried to put things right. As the Mishnah says:
For transgressions between man and God, the Day of Atonement atones; but for the transgression between a man and his fellow man, the Day of Atonement does not atone unless he has first reconciled his fellow man. (Yoma 8:9)
In the theology of Atonement which emerges from this, divine grace requires human engagement. A contemporary rabbinic authority, J. B. Soloveichik, has evoked the essence of Yom Kippur in a poetic description of Moses standing on Mount Sinai after the disaster of the golden calf (Exodus 32). Alone and desolate, Moses shivers in the unbroken silence of a dark desert night. Only as he trembles is a distant faint sound heard. Once Moses seeks him in prayer and supplication, God appears. The conclusion is drawn from this account that something is expected of the human being, however slender, before ‘at-one-ment’ can occur.
OTHER EXPRESSIONS OF REPENTANCE
The Haftarah during the afternoon service on Yom Kippur universalizes God’s longing for repentance. It is the Book of Jonah, where the prophet is commanded to preach to the people of Nineveh. Both Jonah and the Ninevites have to change – their conduct as well as their attitudes. The Mishnah points out that it was when ‘God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil ways’ (Jonah 3:10), and not when God saw their sackcloth and fasting that he revoked his punishment (Taanit 2:1).
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Insight
Just as repentance, as understood here, is very demanding, so forgiveness, as understood here, is very costly. Throughout the liturgy of Yom Kippur, God is depicted as eager to forgive but, without repentance, including all possible reparation, his mercy cannot overcome his judgement.
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Many Jews spend the whole of Yom Kippur in the synagogue, though some may emerge for a breath of air or absent themselves during the afternoon. The focus is on atonement throughout. White, a symbol of both festivity and purity, predominates. It is seen in the dress of the rabbi and the cantor and in the curtains of the ark. Some men wear a white kittel over their clothes. (Some will have been to the mikveh on the eve of Yom Kippur as a sign of spiritual cleansing. See Chapter 9.) In non-Orthodox synagogues, the liturgy is equally long. Although mentions of sacrifices, the physical resurrection of the dead, and a personal Messiah are omitted as theologically obsolete, a vast range of material, both ancient and modern, is substituted.
NEILAH
The final service, at the end of the afternoon, is called Neilah (‘closing’). Its title refers to the closing of the Temple gates, when prayers were offered in ancient times. The thought of the Neilah service which has grown from this is of the closing of the heavenly gates of God’s judgement. The gates, open for repentance, are symbolized by the doors of the ark being open throughout the service. Ezekiel 18 centres attention on the individual’s responsibility to keep God’s command and challenges him with the whole point of the High Holy Days:
Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, says the Lord GOD, and not rather that they should turn from their ways and live?
(Ezekiel 18:23)
A single long blast of the shofar announces the end of the fast. At home or communally, Havdalah is performed and fast broken. Some people then proceed to begin to build a sukkah for the next festival. By this immediate preparation to keep the mitzvah of Sukkot, they are expressing the essence of the Jewish faith: God has given them mitzvot by which to live as he intends.
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THINGS TO REMEMBER
The most important days in the Jewish Calendar are the Days of Awe, stressing the need for reverence of God.
On these days, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Jews reflect on their responsibilities. They are answerable to God, Creator and King.
Designated as the New Year in the Talmud, the day commanded in Leviticus 23:24 comes to celebrate the birthday of the world and, in particular, of the human race.
Admitting that they have done wrong, Jews believe that they need to repent, that is, turn back to God. To help create an atmosphere of repentance the shofar is sounded.
Both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur combine a great sense of festivity with an emphasis on God’s judgement.
Judaism emphasizes both the reality of sin and the capacity of every human being to turn from it. Penitential customs before and during Rosh Hashanah offer the chance of making a new start.
The authority and name for Yom Kippur come from Leviticus 23:27–28. The holiest day in the Jewish Year, the Rabbis simply call it ‘The Day’.
Besides being a major festival, Yom Kippur is also a fast, the most important in Judaism.
The main purpose of Yom Kippur is not only forgiveness but also restoration of how God intends the world to be.
This ‘at-one-ment’ requires genuine repentance from human beings and, wherever possible, reparation.
The day is spent in the synagogue with powerful music and symbolism expressing the need for atonement.
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16
The Holocaust
In this chapter you will learn:
about the impact of the Holocaust on Jewish belief
about the purpose of remembering the Holocaust
about the attempts of Jewish theologians to make some sense of the Holocaust.
Questioning
Most people suffering great pain or loss find themselves asking the question: ‘Why?’ It is not that they always articulate this. Nor do they necessarily expect anyone to answer their question. Indeed, any answer given would run the serious risk of banality, insensitivity, even cruelty. Rather, the question arises as a protest against something which threatens life’s meaning, something which, they believe, just should not be. It has often been said that the death of one child raises the question just as acutely as the death, as in the Holocaust, of a million children. No one can doubt that for those who love that child this is true. For many, however, the Holocaust throws up particularly violently a challenge to meaning. If we believe in the unique value of every human life, then the greater the loss of life the more desperate for an answer we may feel.
QUESTIONS OLD AND NEW
There are those, great Jewish thinkers among them, who contend that the Holocaust raises new questions and not just the old questions on a bigger canvas. They argue for the uniqueness of the attempted genocide not only in its scale but also in its cruelty. In particular, they ask the question ‘Why?’ about the Nazi determination to humiliate and dehumanize Jews, and other groups singled out as inferior, before they killed them. There is debate about whether or not the Holocaust should be described as unique. Knowing in recent years the vicious cruelty and massive ‘ethnic cleansing’ in the former Yugoslavia and in Rwanda, and the apparent impotence (some would add indifference) of world powers to prevent it, we perhaps use the word ‘unique’ reluctantly. If there is a case to be made for its uniqueness, it would seem to rest on the aim of its perpetrators, namely, the total elimination of a race. Certainly it is not helpful to plead superior suffering of the Jews above anyone else’s or to satanize Hitler as against other wicked rulers. There is little debate, however, about the fact that the knowledge of the Holocaust does raise immense and, many would say, unanswerable questions. This chapter is concerned with identifying these questions and assessing their importance for the Jewish faith.
THE PURPOSE OF FRANK QUESTIONING
Rabbi Albert Friedlander maintains that it is vital that the questions be asked. Even if, as he believes, there are not sufficient answers to be found for our time, ignoring the questions, not facing up to the evil of Auschwitz, will go on poisoning the atmosphere. Friedlander considers some of the responses made by Jewish theologians, religious leaders, novelists, and psychologists – Orthodox and Progressive. These he calls Riders towards the Dawn, the title of his book on the subject published in 1993. These are those who, he says, as Jews, have entered the darkness, many of them having suffered the camps themselves or having lost family there. They are the messengers to whom present-day Jews must listen if they are ‘to move out of the shadow of the Holocaust’. But he thinks that this movement from ultimate suffering to tempered hope (the book’s subtitle) is incumbent not only on Jews. Indeed, he considers at many points the role of Christians. This is significant for many reasons: first, the part played by the anti-Judaic teaching of Christianity in the rise and culmination of anti-Semitism; second, the contributions in action and theological thought from Christian opponents of Hitler; and third, the need for self-criticism and fresh approaches from present-day Christians if healing is to come.
Friedlander is not alone in wanting to draw non-Jews into the discussion. The British Orthodox rabbi Norman Solomon has written of the duty of theologians and philosophers and of ‘ordinary’ Jews and Christians to talk about the Holocaust. Honest co-operation on this is, he maintains, essential for the building of a happier future. Certainly, Jews and Christians should be clear about the purpose of such talk. Further causes for hostility abound if Christians display an ignorance of the culpability of the Church in condoning anti-Semitism and, in some cases, fostering it or if Jews simply lay their resentment at the feet of Christian audiences in schools or public meetings. It is surely the responsibility of the leaders and writers of both faith communities not only to communicate the facts but also to find ways forward rather than simply to instil guilt in each other.
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Insight
In many countries there is an increased commitment to Holocaust education at various levels. Its avowed purpose is not to apportion blame but to provide accurate information about the Holocaust, especially against the hostility of Holocaust denial. With fewer and fewer survivors to testify, learning the dangers of prejudice and collective violence in a way which educates for the future is essential.
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Remembering
There has been considerable disagreement in recent years over the rightness of teaching the Holocaust in schools and colleges. It is clearly very difficult to strike a balance between making sure people know the facts of the Holocaust, especially in the face of revisionists denying them, and leaving them weighed down with horror and despair. ‘Remembering for the Future’ was the title given to international conferences on the Holocaust held in Oxford and London in 2000 and to a subsequent publication of essays. It aptly sums up the purpose of researching and teaching the Holocaust. Forgetting is clearly not possible for its survivors. Nor is it permissible for its perpetrators; neither should it be countenanced for those living since. How best to remember, however, is something which divides Jewish opinion and this division reminds us that there is no single Jewish answer. It is significant that, for 20 years afterwards, very little was said about the Holocaust in theological terms, though there were attempts at artistic and literary expression. Jonathan Sacks describes it as ‘a mystery wrapped in silence’. Even those who, since the Eichmann trial in 1961, have written substantively about it are reluctant to call themselves Jewish theologians. Holocaust theology is not a discipline in its own right and no one has written a systematic theology which looks analytically at the event and the diverse responses, offering a coherent and critical account of theological sources. Non-Jews are rightly wary of claiming to understand. But Jews also feel the utter incomprehension of it all. Again, Jonathan Sacks sums it up when he asks both how one could dare to speak and yet how one could dare not to speak on so unfathomable an experience.
HOLOCAUST MEMORIALS
Yet, the very notion of remembrance is problematic. What is the object of those who built the great museum of the Holocaust in the US and of those who visit it? The same question can be asked of Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem which is the ‘World Centre for Teaching the Holocaust’. There, educationists, psychotherapists, and others with the necessary skills for such sensitive matters, hold seminars and courses. There, too, world leaders and ordinary tourists are taken when visiting Israel. Few such visitors could fail to be shocked and moved by what they see at Yad Vashem, but remembering, especially for Jews themselves, goes beyond this. There are Israelis who oppose taking children to Yad Vashem or engaging in its programmes. They ask what children are expected to do with these ‘memories’ of the Holocaust. Some Jews, of course, in Israel and elsewhere, are generally against what they see as focusing on the past. They fear that it simply recreates resentment and presents the Jew as someone who has been, and, therefore, could well be again, victimized. But hidden resentments are surely more dangerous, as evidenced by the explosion of hatred in Yugoslavia in the 1990s which, far from being sudden and inexplicable, stemmed from the failed ‘reconciliation’ between ethnic groups of 50 years ago.
There are clearly risks in continued talk about the iniquities of the Holocaust, especially if they are divorced from other manifestations of racism. The frequency with which the subject of the Holocaust comes up in meetings and journals aimed at Christians or Christians and Jews with interfaith interests can backfire. ‘Not again’ can be the response of those who, having no Jewish experience, find it hard to grasp why it cannot be said to be over and done with. Simon Wiesenthal, for instance, was sometimes criticized as vengeful in his pursuit of Nazi criminals. He and those who support the work of his foundation would maintain otherwise. They see the inadequacy of shelving these crimes against humanity (erroneously referred to as war crimes) for God’s later dealings. Rather, justice must be done in the here and now. They also doubt any easy talk of forgiveness, not least because it is doubtful whether ‘forgiveness’ can be offered by others on behalf of the millions killed. The Centre in Los Angeles, named after Wiesenthal, houses the Museum of Tolerance, and tolerance and compassion are precisely what the Wiesenthal foundation pursues. Justice in the Jewish tradition, and perhaps in other religious traditions, is not the opposite of mercy. Such ancient wrongs cannot simply be forgotten, but require something more concrete and positive.
Figure 16.1. The Israeli president speaking at Yad Vashem on Yom Ha-Shoah, 1990.
YOM HA-SHOAH
A clue to why Jews need specifically to ‘remember’, as if they are likely to forget, perhaps lies in the setting aside of a special day of commemoration, Yom Ha-Shoah (‘Day of the Shoah’). The Hebrew word, Shoah, means ‘whirlwind’ and the term is more commonly used by Jews than the term ‘Holocaust’. Originally called ‘The day of Holocaust and heroism’, this day was established by the Israeli Parliament in 1951. It is observed annually, on 27 Nisan (the anniversary of the Warsaw ghetto uprising) by most Jews, except the Ultra-Orthodox. Since it was declared by a secular body, the Knesset, many Jews (including the present British Chief Rabbi Sacks and his predecessor, Jakobovits) are hesitant about having a special memorial day with special memorial prayers. They would prefer to assimilate remembrance of the Holocaust into the existing fast of Tishah B’Av which commemorates earlier ‘destructions’, notably of the first and second Temples in Jerusalem.
