Sermon by Rabbi Denise L. Eger, January 21, 2005

Shabbat Shalom

The news cycles are on to other stories, but last weeks headlines of England’s prince Harry, third in line to the British throne, donning a Nazi uniform at a costume party still remains with me. There has already been analysis of the 20 year olds grave mistake; some calling it a youthful indiscretion while others try to implicate the Royals with the wide swath of anti-Semitism. I believe that it is important for all of us to think about what happened, its symbolism and its implications for all of us, especially the Jewish community.

Indeed it was shocking to see a Nazi war uniform on the youthful Harry. Shocking that there was no one to advise him. Shocking that even his older brother William, in line for the throne after Charles, wouldn’t have said something to him that he rethink his “costume”. It was shocking that a party—whose theme was “Native and Colonial” marking the time of British dominance and some would say oppression of Africa would be the theme of a party let alone a setting for a Nazi uniform—even though it was the uniform of Rommel’s African corps-which met with defeat at Al-amein, by Allied troops.

For all the fine education of the young prince, Diana’s son, one has to ask where is his sensitivity training? Where is his learning about British history and the horrors that Britain endured during World War II, the losses of soldiers, and bombings during the blitzkrieg? Did he never ask his great grandmother, the Queen Mom, of her sacrifices and the British people’s sacrifice during those years? And more shockingly, did she never discuss her eyewitness report with her grandchildren? Did they never learn about the horrors of the Nazi on European soil—6 million Jews, as well as Gypsies, Poles, gays and lesbians, Jehovah Witnesses, the mentally ill, the developmentally disabled and Political prisoners who were targeted for death and horrendous torture by the Nazi death machine?

This perhaps is the most frightening concern of all: that the 20-year-old Harry’s education has tremendous holes in it.

It causes us to ask if this is symptomatic of an upper class British education?

Then indeed we as Jews and yes, as Americans and allies of the Brits have grave cause for concern.

If Harry as emblematic of an entire generation in England has not learned of the evils of Nazi terror—then what will be the course of the world in years to come?
This year 2005 will mark the 60th anniversary of the official end of World War II. And there are special commemorations and special observances scheduled during this year—a special commemoration at Auschwitz among them. Auschwitz –one of several concentration camps dedicated to the murder of Jews and the Nazi’s policy of Final Solution—has become symbolic of the pure evil, terror and genocide of those years.

But next week- this coming Thursday, January 27 is the actual 60th anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp. Auschwitz is made up actually of three camps—Auschwitz, Auschwitz-Birkenau and Auschwitz-Monowitz and 40 sub camps. Prisoners capable of marching were evacuated into the depths of the Third Reich in late January 1945, at the moment when Soviet soldiers were liberating Krakow, some 60 kilometers from the camp. Approximately 56,000 men and women prisoners were led out of Auschwitz from January 17-21 in marching columns escorted by heavily armed SS guards. Many prisoners lost their lives during this tragic evacuation, known as the "Death March." On January 27, 1945, Red Army soldiers liberated the few thousand prisoners whom the Germans had left behind in the camp.

A British delegation will be a part of the observances at the site of the camps on Thursday. But even though there were suggestions that Harry accompany the group on Thursday, it appears that the gaping hole of Holocaust Education in the young royal will continue to widen, as he will not go to Poland with the British delegation.

But let us not just focus on the antics of Prince Harry.

It happens right here at home.

A number of years ago we had a similar problem in a gay men’s bar right here in West Hollywood. A Nazi flag was hung behind the bar, whether in decoration or in celebration of uniform loving gay sub-culture, it didn’t matter. It was offensive. Not just to Jews and the many Holocaust survivors who live in West Hollywood—but it was offensive to our whole community and yes, gay community. A number of the clergy worked with city officials to have the flag removed. But that wasn’t enough. Because the truth is the bar owner and bar tenders didn’t really want to take it down and didn’t understand why it might be offensive in a gay bar, let alone offensive to the sensibilities of our city, our country and to decent people everywhere. We the clergy engaged in a teaching process to begin to educate about the Holocaust and its particular effect on gay men. And introduced them to Holocaust survivors who shared with them their memories.

This predated our annual Yom Hashoa observance with the city, predated our work with the United States Holocaust Museum to create a department focused on Gay and Lesbian stories but nevertheless helped to fuel the reasons for it.

The bar owner and bar tenders never knew of the way the Nazis treated gays and lesbians during the Holocaust and that they would have been rounded up and sent to concentration camps along with the Jews. It was an eye-opening experience for them and a victory for our whole community when the flag came down. It was a victory not because the flag came down but because they learned truth and specifically the horrors behind the swastika.

I am not one who believes our Jewish identity should solely be built upon the three modern pillars of Judaism—Israel, Anti-Semitism, and the Holocaust. Unfortunately for much of the late 20th century and in some corners of the Jewish world today in the 21st century—this is true. Jewish identity is only built on these three.

I think many of you know me well enough to understand that I believe Jewish identity is built on many pillars -through faith in one God, through the doing of mitzvoth, and engaging our hands and hearts and minds in the pursuit of tikkun olam-the repair and healing of our world, through prayer and celebration, joy and yes, ritual observances. I believe our Jewish identity should be built also on the pillars of our history and sacred texts. And yes, must include ahavat zion, a love of zion and Israel, and an awareness of anti-semitism and willingness to name it and combat it and Holocaust education and witness. They are three among many.

But the lesson for our community and indeed for the world—is that memories are short. That without the proper teaching and education, and telling the stories—in a mere 60 years—the following generations—forget—whether in a bar in West Hollywood or at a costume party in England.

The phrase Never Forget is important. And while it rose up from the ashes of our families members who perished in during the Shoa—it is an important Jewish value that pre-exists the Holocaust..

The value of memory is woven throughout our tradition. We come to temple to remember our loved one who have died, for their Yarzeit—the anniversary of their death and we remember who they were in our lives. We celebrate the Passover seder as if we were the ones who left Egypt—because we want to remember that we were once slaves, strangers in a land and that God took us out of Egypt.

We engage in Talmud Torah—the study of Torah and the reading of Torah because the stories of our people’s birth and encounter with the Divine must be remembered and become our own. As in this week’s portion, Beshallach—we celebrate and recall the miracle of the Dividing of the Sea and our people’s safe crossing. That journey of freedom is celebrated in the poem that makes up this week’s portion—and that poem—Shirat HaYam the song of the sea—preserves not just our memory of the event—but the feelings of the people and the leaders and their attitude towards God at that amazing moment. It is our memory of that day.

Our tradition teaches us to remember that widow and the orphan in our midst because we were once the vulnerable and powerless parties. The texts of our people-the Talmud and Mishnah in particular –preserve the ancient rites of sacrifice in the Temple—that we still study today, even though we have no temple and we aren’t looking to restore the sacrificial way of worship. We study them to remember whom we were which affects and changes who we are now and we will become.

We Jews in our prayers, remember and recall the miracles that were done for us and the teaching of the prophets of ancient days, so that we can learn and incorporate into our the fabric of our own lives the lessons of the past and to shape our hopes for the future.

Memory handed down not just person-to-person but through the generations shapes a people and their destiny. Memory handed down like this both on the personal and corporate levels changes you and your destiny.

That is the lesson we must learn from costume fiasco.

What will England, indeed Europe and the whole world be like if we forget the meaning of that symbol of the swastika in all of its terror, hatred and evil?

We will be like them.

We will have hardened our hearts and closed our minds.

And indeed as the actual survivors of those years, die, and the eyewitness testimony are buried –who will give voice to that darkness and terror—if we forget? Who will remember if we don’t educate not just ourselves but future generations?

This is not some task for others. It is our collective task as a people. It is our community’s task and our synagogue’s task.

So mark your palm pilots and your calendars—that our Yom Hashoa city wide observance will be Sunday May 1 at Plummer Park.

Take some time to remember—to speak up, and learn, not just about the Holocaust but be an educated Jews. Know your history, know our books, have the thirst for learning. Come this Sunday to our scholar in residence-at 10:30 am here—take a class with Rabbi Joel, or come to Downtown Lunch n’Learn.

This is how our memories as a Jewish people will not only live but be able to be transmitted to future generations.

Ken Yehi Ratzon
So May it be God’s will

Sermon by Rabbi Denise L. Eger, January 14, 2005

Shabbat Shalom

With the horrendous events of recent weeks—the killer tsunami in Asia, the flooding rains and deadly mudslides here in our own neck of the woods, much has been written about the power of nature. Our hearts have gone out to the suffering of those who lives have been ended through no fault of their own but simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing more innocent than sitting in his or her own home or even vacationing on a faraway beach. And yet death and destruction have been visited upon thousands and hundreds of thousands of people.

So too with the series of hurricanes that battered the Carribean and Florida early this past fall. The power of nature was on display for all the world to see. Still there are people without homes in which to dwell.

We can’t help but be moved to compassion as the television camera peers into the faces of orphaned children and crying and grief stricken family members—wandering dazed, with little hope or plans for the future. Even in our own backyards—as homes are demolished as they slide down hills, our hearts break as bodies are dug from the mud in Ventura County.

In an instant lives were changed.

And we realize that there are forces much stronger and powerful in the world than our own. While modern technology might have helped avert the numbers of deaths in Southeast Asia if there had been a tsunami early warning system—we, mere mortals are still unable to stop the or redirect the power unleashed by the magnitude 9 earthquake that caused the giant killer wave to wash upon Indian Ocean shores. We human beings with all of our electronic wonders still must stand in awe and perhaps even dread of the power of nature.

Jewish tradition teaches that each of us must remember two things and that we are to carry in two pockets on our person the following messages. One, “The whole world was created for my sake alone.” Two, “I am but dust and ashes.”

These two dialectics—are constantly in play. The raw power of natural forces of recent weeks cause us to be reminded of number two—We are but dust and ashes. Lest our egos grow too large.

The ancients, our ancestors, knew all too well of the power of nature. They wrote in the Tanach of earthquakes, and floods. They wrote of their fear and awe. They wrote their deepest questions. In the book of Psalms (107) we read:

By His word He raised a storm wind that made the waves surge.
Mounting up to the heaven, plunging down to the depths, disgorging their misery,
They reeled and staggered like a drunken man, all their skill to no avail.
In their adversity they cried out to Adonai
And God saved them from their troubles.
God reduced the storm to a whisper,
the waves were stilled. They rejoiced when
All was quiet and God brought them to the port they desired.

Or this from Psalm 77…
The waters sw You, O God,
The waters saw You and were convulsed;
The very deep quaked as well.
Clouds streamed water; the heavens rumbled;
Your arrows flew about.
Your thunder rumbled like wheels; lightning lit up the world;
The earth quaked and trembled.
Your way was through the sea,
Your path through the mighty waters;
Your tracks could not be seen.

Yes, our ancestors knew the terrors of the earth, and their writings tried to make sense of it. Just as we try to make sense of it.

Some Christian preachers have taught in recent weeks—that these people, especially those of Asia, are being punished for their ways. This to me is nothing more than hatred and blasphemy. Pat Robertson said the floods of recent days here in California is because we were a blue state. How absurd is this? Does this theology hold true –that these natural events are punishments by God? Then explain how Florida considered a red state, succumbed to such destruction this fall?

And yet, this is the “theology” that makes the news—the you read in the headlines.

I believe God is present in the suffering—but rather than the cause of it all I believe that God is suffering and crying with those whose lives are devastated by the recent events. I believe that God offers us strength to manage difficult and painful times such as these.

If we return to Psalm 77 that I read to you from—It concludes with the verse—You led Your people like a flock in the care of Moses and Aaron. This verse reminds us of the need to unite together as one people. That in times of dire trouble, that when we come together to help and heal that is the gift from God.

Although we are dust and ashes, we too know the world was made only for me. And that is why we must go out of our way to help all those for whom the world was made—those in Thailand, Sri Lanka, India, Florida and yes, here at home.

The Jewish response to suffering of such magnitude comes in the way we care for and bring forth our humanity.

In our corner of the world, market forces, does all it can to take your individuality, your freedom and your humanity away. Consumerism degrades our spirit, and economic justice seems but a dream. And yet, our tradition teaches us that there is no more important lesson that to uphold human dignity. To offer a hand to our neighbors—Do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor. To reach out to those who in our midst are the most vulnerable in society. The Torah wrote about them as Orphans and women and slaves, but we can understand this to mean all those who need protection in society—especially those who have fallen victim to natural disasters.

In our Torah this week we read of disasters. Disaster brought upon the Egyptians by God. Indeed this is what the right-wingers base their interpretations upon. God interferes in the natural order of our world to impress upon Pharaoh that indeed there is a greater mission for the Israelite nation; That his continued oppression of the Hebrew slaves will bring disaster upon his nation.

Pharaoh ignores the warnings and most importantly hardens his heart to the please of Moses and Aaron, to the signs and wonders of the plagues, and to the pain and suffering of the Hebrew slaves.

Pharaoh had free will. He could have overcome the hardening of his heart and averted the disasters of the plagues culminating in the death of his first-born. This too is a message for all of us. Let us not by cynical and harden our own hears. For when we harden our hearts to the plight of others, be sure it will come back to haunt us. And when we open our hearts—to the suffering of others, and try to reach out and care for them in some way, when we take the emphasis off of the self and focus it on someone else—then truly—we can find God’s presence and healing.

That is the message in the Torah, the message to teach us how to understand the events of recent days and weeks and a message of hope for us and for the world. Let us truly learn to care for each other—and care for those who are suffering. Go out of your way—give and then give some more, of your time, yes, of your tzedakah, but most importantly of your capacity to love.

Then indeed we will know as Rabbi Akiba taught –that the greatest message of the Torah –is Love Your neighbor as your self. Ken Yehi Ratzon. So may it be God’s will.