October 7th: Ha’azinu
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
The following is Rabbi Ostrich’s Rosh Hashanah Morning D’var Torah,
We are presented today with one of the hardest choices a human has ever faced. Out of nowhere, God instructs Abraham to kill his son. To kill! His son! One could argue that God’s instruction—וְהַֽעֲלֵ֤הוּ שָׁם֙ לְעֹלָ֔ה , to lift him up as a sacrifice—is more purposeful, more righteous or holy, but the words do not dress up the horrible choice forced on Abraham.
There have been many debates on what Abraham did and what he should have done. There have been various opinions about what God really had in mind. For today, however, let us just think about the fact that our Rosh Hashanah liturgy celebrates this holy day with an impossible, mind-breaking and soul-breaking story. Whatever Abraham chooses or should chose, there is no right answer. Abraham’s choice is a paradox, a conundrum, an unanswerable question. What we have here conceptually is an intellectual whetstone on which Jews have been sharpening our minds for hundreds and hundreds of years.
Perhaps the deeper lesson of Akedat Yitzchak is that life sometimes presents us with impossible situations—situations with no right or good answers, but situations which must nonetheless be navigated as best we can.
This dynamic could describe many modern issues, but the one foremost on my mind is that of the continuing and continuingly impossible מצב / matzav’/situation, the conflict between Israel and its neighbors. I do not think that I am alone in my perpetual distress at this difficult and perplexing situation.
I am distressed at the slowness of progress toward peace.
I am distressed at the suffering of far too many Israelis who are subject to terror--and whose children must serve in war zones.
I am also distressed at the suffering of Palestinians whose leadership keeps putting them in the line of fire—who spend money on futile military efforts while ignoring economic and humanitarian improvements. I am incensed every time I hear a reporter or commentator acting as though the Israelis alone are responsible for the misery of Gaza and the West Bank.
I am distressed at the temporary demise of the political Left in Israel: with the never-ending threat of rockets and terrorists incursions and stabbings, many Israelis have been persuaded that peace is not a present possibility. Thus have so many new centrist and right-of-center parties come into being and taken the leadership. Though many Israelis long for peace and a good life for Palestinians, it is as though peace is not even on the agenda.
I am distressed at the unfair blaming of Israel and the ignorance-based analysis one sees and hears in media and on campus. I am disgusted by news reports and op-eds that somehow do not see a problem with missile attacks, or terrorist attacks, or dropping incendiary devices on Israeli crops—as though attacks against Jews are somehow not a problem.
I am distressed that false analogies about racism and colonialism and “indigeneity” are foisted onto a situation that is vastly different from other world and historical conflicts. I am distressed at the ahistorical pontificating of people who should know better—who don’t look back beyond 100 years to see that the Muslim and Arab world has been colonizing Israel for centuries, and that the vast majority of Palestinians are colonists from Egypt and Syria and Lebanon, people who only came to Eretz Yisrael after Zionist Jews brought the moribund land back to life. One has higher hopes for our supposed intellectual leaders, but all too often, willed-ignorance is pushed through and illiberal thought is demanded as the price of admission into academic respectability.
I am also distressed at how so much of what we read and hear is based on poor reporting—on seeking extreme voices that reinforce preconceived notions and keep the conflict popping.
I am distressed that many, many efforts toward peace and cooperation between Jews and Arabs are not better known. And, I am distressed that Arabs and Muslims who do engage in peaceful pursuits with Jews are threatened and worse.
There is an interesting phrase in Birkat Hamazon, the traditional blessing after meals, which speaks of a kind of conditional messianism. It praises God Who בונה ברחמיו ירושלים “Builds Jerusalem with compassion.”
We can, of course, read the verse as thanking God for the exceeding compassion evidenced in the rebuilding of our ancient holy city. But, we could also read the verse as speaking of רחמיו / godly compassion as a necessary component in Jerusalem’s rebuilding. If we are to participate in the messianic dream of rebuilding Jerusalem, בונה ברחמיו ירושלים , a main ingredient, a major building block must be compassion.
Fortunately, this is an approach understood by many on all sides of the conflict. All over the Land of Israel, there are individuals and community organizations dedicated to developing relationships and bringing peace. There are Jewish, Muslim, and Christian dialogues--in which religious and civic leaders model and lead encounters of mutual respect and cooperation. There are neighborhood get-togethers, book clubs, charitable endeavors, and shared commercial endeavors. There are many restaurants where Jews and Arabs eat together, shopping centers and grocery stores where they share the aisles, neighborhoods and towns where they live together. There are outreach efforts between Jewish villages and Arab villages. There are athletic and cultural connections in every corner of the land.
Thus do I arrive at my first lesson for today: The dreams of peace are not dead. Though the leaders of Hamas and Hezbollah manipulate hate—and though many Israelis cannot see beyond this murderous opposition, there is human-to-human compassion and neighborliness in the Land of Israel. Psalm 122 speaks of Jerusalem as two cities יְרוּשָׁלַם הַבְּנוּיָה כְּעִיר שֶׁחֻבְּרָה־לָּהּ יַחְדָּו: two cities that can hopefully be united as one. One Jerusalem is in heaven and is the perfect example of righteousness and holiness. The other is on earth and requires effort to make it better. There are thousands of Jews, Muslims, and Christians committed to practical messianism and working toward this unification—when the earthly Jerusalem will approach the Jerusalem in heaven.
My second lesson is more difficult—and brings us back to the impossibility of Abraham’s situation. In many of our minds, there is an intellectual impatience. We want to figure things out, fix them, and then move on. Unsolvable problems test our patience and can get us angry. Indeed, we can respond emotionally and act out at those immersed in these problems, blaming them for the intractability of their situations. This is a departure from reasonable thinking—a sin—that is devoutly to be avoided. Some problems are not amenable to easy solutions—or to solutions on our timetable. Some actors really are too far apart to bring together. Some situations are simply impossible, and we need to negotiate through the difficulties as best we can.
May peace come soon to Eretz Yisrael and all the world. But, in the meantime, keeping the people safe and fed and employed may be the best that is possible. It is certainly better than the alternative. Let us keep our dreams of peace alive, but let us not abandon the dreams because they are currently beyond the horizon.
ברוך אתה ה' בונה ברחמיו ירושלים
“Blessed is the Lord, Who with compassion rebuilds Jerusalem.”