Divrei Tikvah

Rabbi Johanna Hershenson’s Words of Hope

The hatred and war that wreak destruction and instability in Israel and Gaza also amplifies a new expression of antisemitism that is deeply concerning to us all.

The antisemitism of the Middle Ages accused us of blood libel and killing Jesus and barred us from owning land and entering guilds. Nobles of European kingdoms gave and took back permission for us to live in isolated parts of centers of population.

While Emancipation in the Modern Era made us equal citizens and allowed us access to owning property and joining professions, our success in the few areas previously permitted us generated jealousy and a new kind of hatred. We were subject, then, to conspiracies of being parasites taking from “genuine” local peoples, not to mention world domination from behind the scenes. Fascism and propaganda numbed the world from seeing the genocidal Final Solution (the Holocaust) until it was too late. In the discomfort of the aftermath of WWII, the UN gave us Israel, a Jewish state. Better we should be there than in Britain or France or Ukraine or Russia.

Now, in the midst of an emerging Postmodern Age, we find ourselves, as Jews, being accused of colonization, apartheid, and genocide as Israel struggles (and more often than not, failing) to resolve the many insults and injuries to the Arab population that lived in the land under Ottoman Rule until WWI. Truth be told, the early Zionists not only failed to see the clans that became the Palestinian people but also overlooked Arab Jews who lived in the vicinity all along. Only in the 1980’s did the government of Israel begin acknowledging the disparity of wealth and power between Israelis of European descent (Ashkenazi) and Israelis of Arab descent (Mizrachi).

To say the international politics and historic events leading to the current situation are complex, is already an understatement. Add an oversimplified but passionate rejection of imperialism and colonization and the complexity feels insurmountable. To be in the position of educating a person holding tightly to a superficial view of the problem is a no-win situation.

In our Passover seder later this month, we will meet once again the Four Children of the Haggadah. The four children are lifted from four distinct passages in the Torah in which we are commanded to teach our children about the Exodus.

The labels given the four children emerge from rabbinic commentary. While these labels are outdated, the archetypes of the four children correlate to different responses we all have when prompted to take in new information. These archetypes apply today and to international responses to the war between Israel in Hamas.

Fortunately the ancient rabbis formulate suggested ways of approaching each child’s attitude and correlating mindset.

The wise child (the curious person) asks details about the specific meaning of the laws of Passover observance: “What are the testimonies, the statutes, and laws which Adonai our God has commanded you?” to which we respond with one of the very specific laws of the Passover seder. 

With the curious person we might decide to explore the many variables that contribute to the situation in which Israel finds itself, and the parts of the history that we find troubling and/or inspiring.

The wicked child (the self-insulated person) asks, “Whatever does this mean to you?” The rabbis admonish this child as one who sees him/herself as outside the rules that apply to everybody else. This exchange reminds us of the importance of not separating ourselves from our community or from traditions that might seem uncomfortable or foreign to us, but rather to engage with them in ways that enable us to connect with our community. 

With the self-insulated person we may choose to acknowledge to ourselves that he/she is not open to learning or influence and move on.

The simple child (the person who simply doesn’t know)asks, “What does this mean?” to which a straightforward summary of the story is given, directly from the Torah: “It was with a mighty hand that God brought us out from Egypt, the house of bondage.” (Ex 13:14). 

A person cannot know what they don’t know, and if that person asks it is on us to share the story and treat each question as a genuine interest in learning.

In response to the child who does not know how to ask, we are instructed to “open it up” and explain, “It is because of what God did for me when I went free from Egypt” (Ex 13:8). 

When a person is oblivious to our concerns we do not know if it is willful or simply that our experience is off their radar. So, we introduce our stories and our concerns.

The truth is that we each become one the the four children in different situations and contexts. Sometimes we are curious while other times we just don’t want to get involved. The same is true for others.

As this war unfolds, and we witness all sorts of responses, it is on us to decide how much we share and with whom. We need to pay attention to match what we say with the person who is engaging us on the topic. Many of us struggle with conflicting values and beliefs and feelings. It is totally acceptable to feel conflicted—certain of Israel’s right to exist and have security while also saddened or angered by some of the means employed and missed opportunities to make a good faith effort at cultivating peace in recent decades.

B’virkat Shalom