As I was reading through the daily portion of Artscroll’s A Daily Dose of Torah (Series 3), I came across a horrifying story about WWII. Under “A Mussar Thought for the Day,” (Volume 4, Parshat Bo, Page 143) the author was telling of the first Rosh Hashanah, after the Holocaust, which took place in a Displaced Persons Camp.
The Sanzer Rebbe, Rabbi Yekusiel Yehudah Halberstam, spoke to the people: “Before the blowing of the shofar, the gabbai usually announces that adults should watch over the children so they should not disturb or make any noise. Unfortunately, this year we do not have to make that announcement.” The Sanzer Rebbe concluded in a voice choked by tears, as the people cried out in unison for the loss of an entire generation.
Reading this, I recalled what the Holocaust survivor, that I work with, had told me about how she had met and married her husband. He was a distant cousin that survived the war; they were married quickly. When I questioned her about this, she acknowledged: “We had no families, we wanted them.” People were anxious to bring back that missing element that comprises the foundation of Jewish life–the family.
I pondered this story for a moment, and I wondered about how many Jewish children are lost today. A whole generation, wiped out, not there to be quieted down, as is wont of raucous children, during Rosh Hashanah services. Much like the WWII story, these children are not physically present during the services, but not because they can’t be. They have been denied this right through assimilation, the giving up of a heritage, so often misunderstood by those who have suffered the beginnings of assimilation (their parents and grandparents). These children are physically and spiritually absent.
It is time we bring them back.
If you are Jewish, somewhere in the past there was a great-great-grandmother on your mother’s side (a line I hear often enough) for example, then learn what it truly means to be Jewish. Just as I did, you will find that there is a whole beautiful world out there, awaiting your discovery. If you know someone who is Jewish and non-practicing, teach them what you know, pass on the stories, reach out to make the connection.
Let not this sad story be repeated.
עם ישראל חי
Feb 03, 2012 @ 05:32:42
I see some Joshua in what you’re saying too: wherever you step I have given you (1.3). There’s also some prophetic spirit here, I think, and, dare I say it, some…evangelism? Please don’t take this the wrong way; it tickles me in a good way.
The trouble, I think, is this idea that’s becoming prevalent that Judaism is something you inject, not teach. You see it in Israel when you read about Haredis spitting on children, and you see it in Reform when they reintroduce affirmation of resurrection of the dead to the daily prayers for no better reason than “it’s tradition.” Interesting side note: Roman Catholicism is doing exactly the same thing right now.
I meet lots of people at synagogue who were raised orthodox, and they hated it, because the only answer their parents gave to the question “why” was “because.”
Then you ask these people, well, why do you come to shul at all? The answers to that question are usually very interesting.
Have you ever read the article on Leviticus by Leon Wieseltier in the book Congregation? I highly recommend it. He’s brilliant.
Feb 03, 2012 @ 18:46:15
When you say the trouble is that Judaism is becoming injected, not taught, this can be said of many different “forms” of Judaism. For instance, you can “inject” Judaism as purely a cultural thing for a secular Jew. When asked what being Jewish means to them, a response of silence will follow. Similarly, you can “inject” Judaism in an “Orthodox” setting, where open dialogue may not be encouraged, so a true understanding of certain concepts and reasoning behind ritual may not be reached. Although, I beg to differ that those so-called “haredim” are representative of Orthodoxy or Judaism in any way; in fact, I read an article in which this sect is choosing to go by an altogether different name, abandoning the title of haredim, baruch HaShem. They clearly do not study the Torah, as witnessed from their actions, and they commit one of the biggest atrocities–Chillul HaShem.
What I was emphasizing here was offering the education for someone to come to an understanding of the meaning of Judaism and what it means to them, especially if they have never been granted a Jewish education. Likewise, there has to be a union of inner ideals and outer actions. This is why I see a life of observance and education as ideal, as it gives you both the inner ideal and outer action. You simply cannot pass on a feeling, such as “love for Judaism in your heart,” to children, which is one of the reasons that ritual and tradition are necessary. Similarly, ritual and tradition without the education behind it becomes devoid of meaning. I have been blessed to have met many “Orthodox”/observant people who blend these two imperative parts, more so than the others that you speak of who simply participate in ritual and tradition just for that. Too often, many Jews, have just one component–either the inner love or the outer observance. Ideally, there is a union of the inner and the outer, which leads to a most wonderful way of passing on Judaism–in its fullest sense–to the next generation.
Feb 10, 2012 @ 13:51:00
I agree with you! And I like your answer that it comes down to us, which does depend on our own study and practice. I’m all for Shabbat Table Torah discussion.
I’m fortunate to know many lay people who are intensely Jewish with diverse levels of observance. Presently, I’m more concerned about many teachers “out there”.
Jan 26, 2012 @ 13:41:31
How do you propose to do this?
This is ever present in my thoughts as well.
Feb 03, 2012 @ 00:12:15
Well, we start on a small scale, with ourselves and our children, making sure to pass on a Jewish education to the next generation. Then, we branch out to our extended families. Eventually, we may seek out friends or our larger community. I can only imagine starting on a small scale and slowly expanding our efforts, reaching out to any Jew in need of understanding. Like I said, simply reaching out to make a connection can be the start of something wonderful, some new insight into Judaism that someone may not have gotten the chance to have before. Remember, most of the time when a Jew doesn’t know what it means to be Jewish, it isn’t his/her fault. They have not had the education that used to be the staple of Jewish life. Even the blog that you write, The Talmid Rebbe, reaches people. You never know whose life you will make an impression on, even if they just stumble upon your site. As far as outreach is concerned, Judaism is always on my mind and heart; thus, it is usually always on my tongue. Sometimes, I end up having a conversation with someone who is Jewish (but was raised secular) and the next moment I am handing them the book that I was reading (which just so happened to be a book on Jewish observance in this instance). You never know who you will come across and who your words will touch. Proverbs 18.21: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.”