Achdut Ha’am: The
Miracle of Jewish Unity
A Sermon for Yom
Kippur 5777
October 12, 2016
By Rabbi Boaz D.
Heilman
The well-known cliché has it that where you have two Jews,
you have three opinions. I’ve always
wondered about that. Not whether it’s
true or not—it’s pretty much proven fact by now. What I do wonder however is, what is it that
gives us that special ability, the genius if you will, to look at any issue, at
any problem, and come up with an almost infinite number of opinions and
solutions? Not that it’s necessarily a
bad thing, mind you. One result of this talent
is Israel becoming the hi-tech superpower it is; finding logical solutions for supposedly
illogical problems is a Jewish specialty.
It could be, of course, that this kind of thinking is
ingrained in our culture, the result of thousands of years of Talmud
study. Discussing and arguing over minute
points of the law, often only for the sheer pleasure of it rather than with the
hope of actually changing anything, after a while becomes a habit. Maybe that’s why we’re like that: we constantly argue with ourselves; we argue
with our spouses; with our bosses—why, we even argue with God!
It could be that we became that way as a result of living in—or
being from—the Land of Israel. Anyone who’s ever been to Israel or knows
anything about its geography knows that this small country exists right in the
midst of three continents, at the intersection of several of the world’s major trade
routes. For better or for worse, this always
enabled our ancestors to absorb different philosophies, viewpoints and
perspectives; it taught them, and then us, to view life from different vantage
points.
We’ve learned that there isn’t necessarily only one right or
correct view, but rather that all views complement and complete each
other. Individually we see only our own
portion, our own narrow slice of the Truth, but when we put together the
different perspectives, a larger and more complete picture emerges.
But the truth is that the Jewish People has always been
divided along many lines. There’s a good
chance we wouldn’t still be a people at all if it weren’t for our religion, and
God knows we argue about that! A lot!
In Israel, religion is a major bone of contention. For one thing, there is its role in government. The inclusion of religious parties in the
Knesset and Cabinet gives certain groups power that far exceeds their actual
numbers. This means that if you want to
get married in Israel, you have to have an Orthodox rabbi marry you. Conservative or Reform won’t do. But then, even
among the Orthodox there are many divisions.
There’s the Ashkenazi custom, for example, and the Sephardi custom;
these in turn are subdivided by time and place of origin, with each community
practicing its own traditions and worshipping in its own synagogues—which sometimes
are just across the street from one another.
The fissures in Israeli society don’t stop with
religion. The State of Israel was
established by European, Ashkenazi Jews, and the infrastructure they created
had few roles for Jews from Arab lands—the Mizrachi community as they were
called. There was little understanding
of the rich legacy Mizrachi Jews brought with them from Iraq and Morocco, from
Yemen and Tunisia, from the Balkans and from the Atlas Mountains of Northern
Africa. Coming into the newly-formed
State, Mizrachi Jews found themselves relegated to second-class status. Their heritage
was belittled, while their lack of modern, western education meant that they
would remain for decades on the fringes of society.
More recently,
the cultural dispute has focused on the large Ethiopian Jewish community that
came to Israel in the 1980’s and 90’s. Here the division is not only over
the kind of Judaism they brought with them but also, tragically, along race
lines.
When Jewish immigration to Israel—or Palestine, as the world
called it then—increased from a mere trickle to a series of waves, late in the
19th century and early in the 20th, most of the pioneers
came from Eastern Europe. Refugees from pogroms
and persecution, they could boast of both education and culture, but very
little money. So they established kibbutzim, communal settlements where
money and all other resources were shared equally by all members. Little by little, however, as the population
grew, as donations from America and Western Europe increased, and as local industries
began to rise and develop, so did privatization. Wealth was no longer equally distributed, and
Israeli society became riven along economic lines. In recent years, this problem has grown to serious proportions. The
gap between the very rich and those living below the line of poverty has grown
to an unprecedented level. Sadly, among
the most adversely affected are Holocaust survivors and children—the very elderly
and the very young, who together are among the weakest and most vulnerable
members of society.
Yet another bone of contention—and this stands true for all
Jews, throughout the world, not only in Israel—is how to proceed with self-defense.
I find it amazing and hard to understand, but there are
those among us who see no need for a Jewish State at all. However, the majority of Jews still remember
the events that preceded the establishment of Israel, or are descendants of
survivors. Or they might be among those
who have learned well the lessons of our history. It’s a history that has many glorious
moments, that has achieved unbelievable heights. But it is also a history filled with
tragedy. Expelled, segregated and persecuted for 2000 years, a full half of
our people were murdered in the Shoah, the Holocaust. 4.5 million adults
and 1.5 million children—a vast and rich past as well as almost our entire
future—were herded into cattle cars and then methodically shot, starved,
electrocuted, gassed and burnt by the Nazis and their
collaborators.
And what Hitler didn’t succeed in completing, the Communist
regime of the USSR took up, not only killing Jews and exiling us to frozen gulags,
but also attempting to eradicate Judaism itself, to snuff out whatever spark
was left among our people of Jewish faith, spirit and hope.
The State of Israel is as much product of Jewish nationalism
as it is a heroic effort to be a refuge and shelter for Jews and Judaism. Israel was established not only to be a place
where Jews could defend themselves, but also as a safe harbor where Judaism
could thrive and grow on its own terms.
Israel today is stronger than it ever was, thank God, but
not much safer. Iran has vowed to wipe Israel off the map, and through the
media as well as through its proxy militias—particularly Hamas and Hezbollah—challenges
Israel’s security daily. Peace talks
with the Palestinian Authority have proven fruitless for more than two decades
now, and the Lone-Wolf Intifada, as the media calls the latest surge of
violence against Israelis, is product of ongoing viral hatred and daily
incitement in Arab mosques, schools and even kindergartens. Only two of Israel’s neighboring Arab
countries, Egypt and Jordan, concluded peace treaties with Israel; they have
benefitted greatly from peace, but there is little doubt which side they would take
if Israel’s existence, God forbid, were really on the line.
In Israel, the majority of the Jewish population understands
that strength is the only viable answer to the ongoing violence. But there is also a large number of people
who see the collateral damage, too. They
see the government’s policies as too harsh.
They see the settlements in Judea and Samaria as roadblocks to peace. They see the security wall, built to keep out
blood-thirsty terrorists, as a form of apartheid, meant to keep Palestinian
Arabs not only out of the geographical boundaries of Israel, but in a constant
state of poverty and desperation. This
slanted and one-sided view is voiced by several parties and alliances in
Israel, but it also finds expression outside Israel, on colleges and
universities, in the BDS movement, in leftist politics, and—of greatest concern—in
statements coming from the White House and the State Department.
Now, sadly, the question of how best to guarantee Israel’s
security has caused a deep rift to appear not only between American Jews and
their Israeli counterparts, but also within the American Jewish community itself.
With all the divisions and rifts pulling at the seams of our
people, it’s amazing that this house still stands. Practically a miracle!
It’s a miracle that, although we don’t always see eye-to-eye
on religious matters, our religion still does unite us.
It’s a miracle that, although we don’t always agree about politics,
we still talk to one another.
And it’s a huge miracle, too, that today, Israel unites us.
Who would have expected that in a mere flicker in time, in
less than seventy years, the Land of Israel, its people, its language and its
traditions would rise from the ashes, come alive and even thrive once again? Who would have foreseen that millions of
refugees from Europe, from the Soviet Union, from Arab lands, from India,
China, Ethiopia and all other countries around the world would come home to the
land of their ancestors and become interwoven into the fabric of one multi-ethnic,
multi-racial nation?
But Israel unites us not only by taking in refugees from our
Diaspora. It unites us through its
values and ideals. We view with pride and
gratitude Israel’s many contributions to humanity—from agriculture to conservation,
from medicine and hi-tech to women’s empowerment, from economic assistance offered
to struggling nations to life-saving aid sent to survivors of natural
disasters.
But this unity is under attack today, and the dangers have rarely
been greater. It isn’t only Israel that
is criticized and attacked today. It’s
all Jews, all over the world. An attack
on a kosher supermarket in Paris, France, is not random. It’s specifically calculated. The vicious beating of a Chabad rabbi in
Zhitomir, Ukraine, only five days ago, isn’t random. Ukraine has a long and violent history of
anti-Semitism, and Zhitomir owns a whole chapter in it.
And now, anti-Semitism has even reappeared in American
politics. In what’s been termed the Alt-Right, anti-Semitism is obvious and
easy to recognize, expressing itself openly in a proliferation of symbols and
words we have come to recognize and know all-too-well as hateful and dangerous.
But the political Left also has its share of anti-Semites. With attacks ostensibly directed at Israel, the
Alt-Left subverts history itself, using terminology such as genocide,
ethnic-cleansing and even holocaust to describe Israel’s actions of
self-defense. On liberal college
campuses, Jewish students are harassed in classes and excluded from student
government as well as other groups and events, solely on the basis of their
religion. Jewish events such as film festivals are cancelled, and Jewish
speakers are either disinvited or silenced.
The world today is riven with hatred and bloodshed. Much of it—way too much, though even one is
too many—is directed against our people, whether in Israel or in other
countries. We need to unify and stand up
as one against these dangers. We may
have different political views, but we are also one people, united by common tradition,
history and purpose. We need to support
one another against the rising flood of anti-Semitism in Europe, Asia and
America. We need to support and embrace
our brothers and sisters in Israel, to be there for them as they have been and are
there for us. In our schools, at our local meetinghouses, in our statehouses
and in Washington, D.C., we need to work together for a strong Israel, to advocate
for it, to tell the truth about its history and survival. It is, after all, also our history and survival
we are defending.
Today, in addition to saying Sh’ma Israel, our God is one, we also need to say, Sh’ma Israel, Hear O! Israel, our people
is one. Despite the many differences and
divisions between us, we are one.
Despite the many viewpoints and opinions, our mission is still one—to be
God’s partners in making this world a safer and better place for all its
inhabitants.
May our many voices rise up in unison today. May our prayers for life and health join
in one accord with the prayers of our people in Israel and elsewhere throughout
the world. And may we all be blessed
with peace, love and prosperity.
L’shana tova tikateivu
v’teichateimu—may we all be inscribed as sealed for a sweet, safe and happy
New Year.
Kein y’hi ratzon.
© 2016 by Boaz D. Heilman
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