Jews and Halloween???

Walking past spooks, spiders, cobwebs (bird traps – please don’t!), skulls, crossbones and pumpkins with my dog Nessie yesterday, I thought I’d research what Jews have to say about Halloween. More fool me! I’d no notion how much there’s out there.

First a caution: anything about spirits touches deep places. Judaism teaches that the soul survives death. We pray for our dead to be ‘bound in the bond of eternal life.’ We’re admonished to leave them in peace. I’ve a memory, strange, vivid, of the spirit of Lore, my mother, just after she died in hospital, appearing for a half-second, less even than a moment, in the corridor of our house in Douglas Park Crescent, and gesturing goodbye before vanishing forever. So I’ve deep respect for everything concerning our beloved dead.

But about Jews and Halloween I knew nothing. As a Scot, I should have realised the date derives from the Celtic festival of Samhain. Pronounce this if you can: “Oidhche Shamhna theirear gamhna ris na laoigh.” It means that on Samhain night, calves become stirks, (beast aged six to twelve months). Samhain’s when summer turns to winter. The harvest’s in, the long indoor hours have begun, food will have to be rationed. The veil between our world and the spirit world is thin, and souls revisit their erstwhile homes.

Later, Halloween became Christian, just as in Judaism ancient dates are overlaid with Jewish history. But if Halloween’s origins are agricultural and pagan, does Judaism forbid participation?

‘Definitely!’ writes Rabbi Michael Broyde: Halakhah, Jewish law prohibits both “idolatrous customs” and “foolish” practices. Halloween may be foolish, but it’s not idolatrous, argue others: it’s just American, like Thanksgiving. It’s “harmless fun.” (See Kveller Magazine for more)

No doubt that’s why there’s so much kosher Halloween candy: “Creepy Peepers —each wrapped in a cartoonishly bloodshot eyeball foil wrapper; Dr. Scab’s Monster Lab Chocolate Body Parts, bags of fingers, ears, eyeballs and mouths, strangely milchig, rather than fleishig.  There’s even a line in Halloween Fair Trade Kosher. (See Edmon Rothman in JTA for more)

So what does the rabbi say? You certainly wouldn’t have found me sending my children out tricking and treating. But would I inveigh against others? There’s a rabbinic tradition as old as the Talmud about not wasting your breath when people aren’t going to listen anyway. And there are worse things to object to.

Yet here’s some Jewish advice.

Pumpkins: next year, grow them for the Succah. Let’s have a ‘best pumpkin for the shul Succah’ competition.

Trick-and-treat: Hang on until Purim, when you can be treated with halakhah on your side. And remember: ‘trick’ doesn’t mean threatening to throw eggs at someone’s window if they don’t give you Quality Street or Heroes. It means ‘party-trick’, like offering a short song or performance. If you can’t wait until Purim, Chanukkah geld is a respectable interim.

Spirits: As Sam Glazer beautifully writes, we have our own harvest festival, called Succot, when we too welcome spirits in the form of the Ushpizin, the souls of honoured guests like Abraham and Sarah. So from now on keep a nook for your spook in your Tabernacle. (See The San Diego Jewish World for more)

As for me, will I stock up on kosher sweets in case gangs of kids come knocking on the door (some might even be from my own community!)? Probably. Because I hate seeming mean, and even the mere thought that someone might think ‘Mean Jew’ cuts horribly deep.

But you won’t catch me lighting my Shabbes candles inside a pumpkin when Shabbat comes in tonight.

PS: My excuse for writing this? I live with heavy themes week after week and sometimes it’s too much.

In our hands – the glory of creation

How wonderful it is to begin once again the cycle of the Torah. I hold the yad, the pointer hand, over the Torah’s opening word, Bereishit, ‘In the beginning,’ and feel at once a sense of mystery. What lies unknown and unknowable in the blank margins of the parchment before the first letters inscribe themselves in firm black ink upon the imagination, before ‘And God says, “Let there be…”’? The world begins in wonder.

And in the joy of creative beauty. ‘Look!’ says the Torah: the waters, grasses, fruit-bearing trees, fishes, amphibians, birds and animals, and even you and I. God’s sacred energy courses through them all, and says, ‘Behold! This is good!’ Still today, that same life-force flows through the earth, sustaining everything that lives.

‘Look!’ says Maimonides, study the world and you will at once be filled with wonder at the majesty of God’s works. That is the secret of the love of God. Then take a step back, humbled by how small you are before such glory, intricacy, beauty. That is the secret of the reverence for God.

But don’t look too far, says Sean Ronayne, who recorded the songs of every bird in Ireland, natives and visitors alike: ‘The beauty is everywhere. Stop searching for the big show – there’s no need. Open your mind and let it come to you.’

That’s how my wife told me with excitement: ‘I realised it was different kind of song, that I hadn’t heard before. So I looked up and there was a flock of long-tailed tits.’ Gorgeous, they are, with their pink breast-feathers, chatterers, like a community at Kiddush.

Or maybe you prefer to keep your eyes close to the ground. ‘I’m looking for hedgehogs,’ I explain to a fellow midnight dog walker on the Heath, on the night of Simchat Torah, the Joy of Torah, the joy of God’s creation. ‘In the next field, two or three of them,’ she answers. I never did find them. But closer to home there’s that pair of rescue hedgehogs we’ve just released in the woodlands behind the synagogue. May they fulfil the blessing God gave all the creatures: ‘Go forth and multiply.’

The mystics have their own way. They don’t just say the seven-times repeated, ‘And God saw that it was good.’ It may not be strictly grammatical, but they also read the words backwards: ‘See God in all God’s works, and see that this is good.’ They understood that God’s sacred, life-giving energy is present not just in the heavens above, but in the first small oak leaves emerging from the acorn, and in the watchful eye of the robin that hops on to your garden spade.

‘I stopped on my way to synagogue,’ Michael S. told me years ago: ‘It was a cold, bright autumn morning and the drops of dew in a spider’s web were caught in the rays of the rising sun. After that, I was ready for prayer.’ ‘No, he added, ‘That was already my prayer.’

‘You owe me nothing in life,’ wrote Sean Ronayne, dedicating his book Nature Boy to his pregnant wife and their unborn child, Laia: ‘All that I ask from you is that, one day, you fly the flag for nature and love it as it so deserves, and give it the voice it needs.’

That’s what God wants of each of us. For, observed the moral philosopher Hans Jonas, the wondrous work of creation, marked with the image of God, has passed into ‘man’s precarious trust, to be completed, saved, or spoiled by what he will do to himself and the world.’

What, then, are we making of this trust, you and I? And those who hold power over creation? Shall we, as God enjoined on Adam and Eve, serve creation with reverence and preserve it with respect? Or… or… or what?

Fragile Hope

‘God of salvations,’ we prayed this morning, ‘Hasten and save us.’ Finally, finally, after more than two years, we pray that we may look to the coming days with hope.

May the hostages return home, those living to the love of their families, and the dead to a dignified burial in Israel. May there be an end to the fighting, deaths, homelessness, hunger and destruction in Gaza. May no more soldiers of the IDF be killed. May there be plans for a lasting peace!

Friends have suggested four possible berachot, four blessings, for this time of precarious hope:

  1. Baruch matir assurim: Blessed be God who frees the bound.’ Eli Sharabi describes in his searing and courageous book ‘Hostage’, just published, how his hands were tied behind his back, how he and his comrades in captivity were shackled. May the hostages be free from captivity. May Israel and Gaza be free from war. May we all be free from the shackles of hatred.
     
  2. Baruch Hatov Vehameitiv; Blessed be God who is good and does good:’ these words are recited on hearing good tidings, such as the first drumming of rainfall after long drought. We have had a prolonged dearth of positive news. Like many, I have found it hard to listen to more than a few moments at a time. Now at last, there’s something good, maybe, maybe, hopefully, please God, enduringly good. Yesterday I watched the crowds in Kikar Hachatufim, Hostage Square in Tel Aviv. I’ve been there several times in solidarity and sorrow. Now the place is on the verge of joy. 
     
  3. Baruch shehecheyanu; Blessed be God who has kept us alive, preserved us and brought us to this time:’ these familiar words were WhatsApped to me by the wonderful writer Osnat Eldar, whose poem of anguish ‘Mothers’ I have several times read out in our synagogue:
    ‘Mothers…They come to me at night
    One by one
    I hug them with compassion, with longing…’

    Some, at least some, will once again hold their loved ones in their arms. Some will recite the shecheyanu with joy and tears, and unutterable relief.
     
  4. Baruch mechayei hameitim; Blessed be God who revives the dead:’ one says this blessing on being reunited someone whom one has not seen for a very long time. The relevance is obvious. Yet I can’t help but think of those whose loved ones are gone forever, whose dead will not return. 

I cherish these blessings. But, like many with whom I have spoken, I have not yet dared to say ‘Amen’ to any of them. 
There’s a time for joy and a time for sorrow, writes Kohelet, Ecclesiastes, whose words we read tomorrow. But what when there’s a time for both at once?

May God let us rejoice with those whose loved ones, for whom they have yearned and over whom they have worried for so long, return to their embrace. May God open our hearts to the grief of those whose dear ones will never come back from the dark tunnels of Hamas, or from under the rubble of Gaza. May God guide us to help tend the wounds, physical and spiritual (today is World Mental health Day) of those who carry incurable hurts in their hearts.

But, above all, may God bring us hope for the future, and may God inspire our leaders to nurture that hope and make it real.

And here in the UK
 
Our hearts are with the community of Heaton Park in Manchester after the appalling terror attack and murders on Yom Kippur.
 
We appreciate the commitment of the CST, community volunteers and the police in their courageous, ongoing work to protect us.
 
Many rabbis, myself included, have been moved by the numerous messages of support from Imams, Muslim leaders and ministers of the Church.
 
Since last week there have been several attacks on Muslim places of worship, in particular, a vicious arson attack on Peacehaven Mosque. We stand together in solidarity against all racist, Islamophobic and Antisemitic outrages.
 
Last night, the Board of Deputies brought together the leaders of different faiths to hear excellent addresses, including from Miatta Farnbulleh, minister for faiths and communities. The focus was on finding light, despite these bleak times, through demonstrating our solidarity, protecting each other and deepening the cohesion of our society.

The journey of Teshuvah

The full moon of Elul has passed. I missed the eclipse, but went outside late at night and stared for a few moments at the circle of red haze which surrounded that moon in the clear night sky. It was beautiful, but flushed, as if it wanted to illumine a whole and perfect world, but, looking down at our deeds on earth, felt shame. It struck me then that this moon was an emblem of Teshuvah.

Elul is the month of Teshuvah, repentance and return, an inner journey which becomes more intense through the Asseret Yemei HaTeshuvah, the Ten Days of Penitence from Rosh Hashanah until Yom Kippur which will soon be upon us.

Yesterday, strangely, I heard the same question posed in two entirely different context: Does one have to repent for actions one did not do out of choice but because one was forced? As Daniel Taub, formerly Israel’s ambassador to the Court of King James, pointed out in a deeply touching talk last night, the legal answer may be ‘no’, but the emotional and moral answer is ‘yes’.

That’s because teshuvah is motivated not just by ‘What have I done wrong?’ but also, or even more so, by the feeling: ‘If only the world wasn’t like this; if only it was better.’ For teshuvah is about looking up as much as looking down. We may think of it as driven by guilt, but in truth it’s motivated by love. It’s compassion and love of life that makes us feel in our heart, and not just think abstractly in our head, ‘This gift of life, this beautiful world! We must not damage it so!’

That’s why the Torah teaches that teshuvah is an opening of our heart and soul. It brings us back to God, and God back to us, because it restores our awareness of how precious and sacred, yet vulnerable, life us. It awakens our love and compassion.

It’s that very love that makes us feel pain that the world is so wounded when it could, and should, be so wonderful. That’s what Primo Levi described, recalling the expressions of the first young Russian horsemen to approach the fences of Auschwitz, as ‘the shame a just person experiences… that evil should have been introduced irrevocably into the world of things that exist, and that [our] will for good should have proved too weak…’

Several times this year people have told me they feel ashamed. I won’t go into details. But I recognise the feeling. It bothers me sometimes in the supermarket, when I throw things into my trolley knowing that I’ve no idea out of what poverty or labour these products may have reached the shelves. It pains me when I see a smashed-up badger by the roadside. It sticks in me when a refugee, standing in my kitchen, tells me how and where his family were murdered. What horrors have we inflicted on innocent life? There are times I’m ashamed of being a human.

But teshuvah must not stop with shame. It must lead us to tikkun, healing and reparation. It must bring us to the question: ‘What can I do? What is the particular contribution I can make in this world full of wonder, and wounds?’ So many people answer in ways I deeply admire: ‘I’m helping with food rescue.’ ‘I’m baking challah for friends who’re having a tough time.’ ‘I’m in a group taking children who’ve faced trauma on therapeutic nature trails.’ ‘I play in a volunteer band, for displaced people, and in bomb shelters when the sirens go off.’

The love, the sorrow, the desire to make reparation, the commitment ‘This is what I’m determined to do’ – that is the journey of teshuvah.

Hearing God In Our Heart

This week brings the new moon of Elul, the month of Teshuvah, return. From its first day until Shemini Atzeret we recite Psalm 27 every evening and morning. I know one shouldn’t have favourites, but I love this Psalm. It’s filled with the longing to find God, to feel God’s presence in the world and the gift of God’s breath in our hearts.

The Psalms begins: ‘God is my light.’ The rabbis differentiated between the outer light of the sun which brings dawn and dusk, and the inner light of the sacred, hidden within all creation, which only the eye of the spirit can see. The Psalm invites us to look at the world through such eyes.

Sometimes this is gifted to us in moments of wonder. Nicky and I were standing on the slate-rock shores of the Isle of Seil at twilight when we saw an otter climb out of the sea onto the deck of a small fishing boat, walk slowly along it, pausing twice to look cautiously in our direction, before sliding back into the water. With it slipped away the last orange band of sunlight behind the black outline of Mull. For a few gracious minutes we saw into the world’s secret life.

At other times, we have to earn deeper vision by looking with eyes of compassion. I’m at the supermarket cash desk, someone annoyingly slow is in front of me and the cashier’s taking too much time. I look again and see differently: here’s a man who’s grown frail, struggling to manage with just one functioning hand. The woman at the till, knowing she’ll get complaints from the queue, gets up from her seat, speaks cheerfully, helps the man pack and place his card on the reader.

The incident may be trivial. But if we looked more often with compassionate eyes, we might be less impatient, less frustrated, and notice more often the sacred dignity in lives we might otherwise have ignored or even despised.

The Psalm continues: ‘God is my light and my salvation.’ Sometimes this is an urgent prayer. Bishop Nowakowski texted me yesterday:

I’m in Ukraine for several days… last night was especially challenging with the bombs of death and destruction… With prayerful best wishes, Kenneth.

It’s a supplication Israelis, and Palestinians, know only too well.
But, hopefully more often, God is our salvation in a different sense. Seeing into the inner life of the world, becoming more aware of people’s dignity and struggles, and the fragile beauty of non-human life around us, we appreciate more deeply that we’re here to care for all being, because God’s presence resides in it all. We are saved from hopelessness, aimlessness and depression, and find new strength and purpose.

‘For you my heart speaks,’ says the Psalm, meaning that God is present in our hearts and speak to us there. If, amidst our fears and distractions, we can nevertheless listen with our heart, with attentiveness and humility, we will perceive life with deeper wonder and compassion and find our purpose in caring for it in whatever ways we can. That is a great secret of the path of Teshuvah, return.

In these harsh times, may God be our light and our salvation on this road.

The summons of the Shofar

Elul is the month of preparation, of awakening, when the shofar is sounded succinctly each morning, before it cries out in one hundred protestations on Rosh Hashanah:

Even though it is sounded simply by decree of the Torah, there is an implied meaning in the shofar’s call: ‘Wake up, you sleepers, from your sleep, you who slumber from your slumbers. Search your deeds… Remember your Creator.’ (Maimonides: Laws of Repentance 3:4)

The first note of the shofar is Tekia, a sustained and aspiring outpouring, as if to say, ‘Listen! This is an amazing world. Consider that tree, sustaining the lives of so many birds, giving shade through scorching days. Hear the sound of the longed-for rain as it falls on the leaves. Watch the moon fade away as the dawn sun brightens. Pay attention as the birds sing out their homage at twilight, while the orange horizon deepens into red. Melo chol ha’arets kevodo – All the earth is full of God’s glory.

But how this world is broken. ‘Shevarim, fractured, in pieces,’ observes the shofar. ‘Why did you have to flee?’ we ask our guest from Afghanistan. ‘Because they murdered my brother.’ I switch off the news; I can’t bear hearing any more about drone attacks and bombed-out buildings. I don’t want to know that yet again a climate target has been missed. I go down the street to the nearby woods for solace: who dumped that pile of cans and plastic bottles, as if the world was our rubbish heap?

Teru’a; weep!’ cries the shofar. ‘Yelulei yalel,’ explains the Talmud: ‘sustained sobbing.’ We must go deeper than anger and frustration; we must open our heart to the hurts and the tears. That young woman, she’s crying for her husband who won’t be returning, won’t open the front door and lift up their youngest, who comes running towards him, in a great hug. But not now, don’t cry now; she must hide her grief from the children. ‘All our tears are gathered at the New Year, all our anguish, all our pain,’ wrote Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira, known subsequently as the Rebbe of the Warsaw Ghetto. ‘They become disembodied,’ pure outrage, pure weeping. They ascend to the throne of God, who hears because the anguish of the world is close to God’s heart.

Therefore no, don’t despair! Teki’a, calls the shofar: take strength! Remember the sacred spirit that flows through all life! Remember life’s wonder! Listen; that bird, it’s a cuckoo come back from a three-thousand-mile journey. It’s here again. And we’re still here. We shall regroup, repair, rebuild our faith, our spirits, our world. We shall find the energy. We shall never surrender our souls, our vision, our determination, our hope. We shall heal the world, and if not the whole world, if not even this country, then at least this small corner, this tiny portion of infinite, sacred life with which we are entrusted, for which we are responsible, right now.  

Thus, day by day the shofar calls to us, cajoles us, summons us, inspires us, until its great outpouring on Rosh Hashanah, the renewal of creation.

Why small things matter

Tomorrow is the first of the month of Av. I’m never sure how to call it because, to the best of my knowledge, it’s the only Hebrew month which has two obvious names: simply Av, and Menachem Av – ‘Av the Comforter.’ I’ve often wondered which name to use when.

The Talmud says that when Av begins, our joy is diminished, (in contrast to the spring month of Adar, when our joy increases.) I remember saying to Gabi, my beloved Israeli uncle x-times-removed who always has a melody under his breath and wise words on his lips:

‘A sad month, this Av, isn’t it?’
‘Only until the 9th, the fast of Tisha Be’Av,’ he quickly replied, ‘After that, it’s Menachem Av, all about consolation.’

So the ‘comforter’ aspect is from the 10th of the month onwards.

But this year I’m starting early. That’s because we need consolation in order to keep going; we urgently need to be people of healing and repair, and there’s no time to waste.

Tisha Be’Av is about destruction: the Temples, the communities destroyed in the Crusades, the expulsions, book-burnings, slaughters. It’s not because there’s no devastation in today’s world that I’m thinking, ‘we’d better start the healing now.’ It’s because there’s so much destruction, done to us, done around us, some done by us, that it’s unbearable, and I can scarcely face thinking about it. Nobody needs me to go into details. It’s because it’s all too much, that’s why I’m stressing: ‘Menachem – Be a comforter – now.’

Don’t think: ‘I can’t stop the wars, so what can I do?’ Don’t be disempowered. ‘Little’ things count. If you can send a kind message to the family of a hostage, do. If you can contribute to get food to Gazan children, or anyone hungry anywhere, do. If you can cook a meal for a friend who’s sick, do it. If there’s a parched tree nearby and you can nurse with water through the summer heat, do it. If you can say a thoughtful word to someone you’ve had a disagreement with, do it. There’s no such thing as ‘too small to matter.’

The ‘little’ things we do can inspire others. ‘I asked my Palestinian doctor how his family were in these horrible times,’ a Jerusalem friend told me. ‘You’re the first Jewish patient to ask,’ he replied, and went on to relate how, in a North American street, he saw some teenagers humiliate an elderly Jew while hundreds stood around, and he, a Palestinian, intervened.

‘The British Lady’s Slipper Orchid survived in only one location,’ two leaders of the charity Plantlife told us. ‘But forty people helped germinate seeds and now it’s back in the meadows.’ You could say, ‘What’s that do for the troubles of the world!’ But plants are part of God’s creation, and who knows what comfort their beauty may bring. Heather Jones, an NHS nurse, writes in Plantlife’s magazine how her colleagues spend long hours in high-tech environments where mental and physical depletion can lead to burnout. But nature lifts the spirits and restores hope, so she’s rolling out healing in nature to all the healthcare professionals in her region.

I’m not writing about these ‘small’ acts out of romantic unrealism, to deny the devastation in the world, but in order to keep myself going, to keep on the side of healing and consolation.

I often think of TS Eliot’s line in The Wasteland: ‘These fragments I have shored against my ruins.’ Those fragments are my Menachem Av, my comforters. They’re the acts which sustain us daily, bring us closer to each other and give hope. They’re what we’re here on earth to do. At the end of each day, and, I believe, at the close of our life, they will gather round us, look us in the heart, and say, ‘You tried.’

On our anguish and on healing

In these deeply frightening times, I pray that everyone we love and care for should be safe. Like us all, I’m calling Israel, messaging, worrying about what last night brought and what today will bring. Magen David Adom, the Herzog, other trauma hospitals and numerous organisations are calling on us and we must help as best we can. Meanwhile, the hostages remain in the grip of Hamas and the sufferings in Gaza continue.

We rightly reach out to our own people first. But I was touched by what happened when I went to my favourite vegetable stores:
Your family in Israel, are they OK?
Yours in Iran, are they alright?


The London borough of Barnet has both the largest Jewish and Iranian communities in the UK. We’re all human, desperate for those we love. A synagogue member of Iranian origin sent me this verse by the Persian poet Saadi (c. 13):
Human beings are like parts of one body,
For in creation they come from one gem.
If one part is in pain,
Other parts cannot in comfort remain… 

 
Israel is not at war with the Iranian people, but with its evil regime and terrorist proteges, Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthi and others, because of the unbearable risk that Iran will develop nuclear weapons. But it’s always ordinary people who bear most of the suffering.
 
Meanwhile, I’m acutely aware that our community is torn by different opinions. Deep anxiety leads us each to our allegiances, fears and hurts. So, as we come together for our Annual General Meeting, my fortieth + and my last as senior rabbi, I want to stress what I understand to be core Jewish values, for at heart we are a religious community.
 
Chesed, faithful lovingkindness, means being here for each other in joy and anguish, from birth to death, with care and consolation, through companionship, food, and the wisdom of ledabber al lev, listening and speaking to the heart.
 
Tesedek means commitment to doing and promoting justice. Tzedakah requires supporting social justice, giving where there is hunger, poverty, homelessness and medical and mental need, in the Jewish community, Israel, our local community, and the world.
 
Avodah means serving God by serving human life created in God’s image, and by caring for all life in its multiple manifestations of God’s presence, wonder and glory.
 
Kehilah, community, means being together in good times and bad, in prayer, study and action. It means solidarity with our Jewish community here, in Israel and worldwide, as well as with people of different faiths, with refugees, with those who need us and whom we need, and ultimately with the community of all life.
 
These values lead me to ask, especially now in wartime when we are constantly anxious for our people, that we place ourselves in solidarity with life and healing in whatever ways we can, whatever our political views and affiliations.
 
I received from Israel yesterday:
While death and destruction, chaos and fear exist all around, I took a sweet girl and her mother from Tarkumia checkpoint to Sheba Hospital near Tel Aviv. We drove on roads usually packed at this time of the day. They were empty. We laughed, we talked a little English, a little Arabic, a little Hebrew. When we arrived at the entrance to the Pediatric Department, this sweet girl put her arms around my legs. I got a hug. I wish I could show you a photo of her.
I’ve been criticized for just about everything – for being naive, for being patronizing, for paying lip service, for not taking a firm stand one way or another.
This IS my stand. This is my answer to what has been happening all over this region, a small tikkun olam, a small act of reparation, in a broken world.


There are many ways of taking our stand. Wherever possible, can we take it on the side of healing, in whatever ways we understand. For there is no end to the wounds in our bleeding world, and no limit to the healing that’s needed.

The Horror and the Hope

I have so wished to write today about the beautiful vision in our Torah of the Sabbatical year, when the fences come down, the fruits of the earth are shared, and citizen and stranger, farm-owner and refugee, rich and poor, wild beasts and domestic animals, appreciate them together.

But how can I do so, when we mourn the murder in an act of terrorist antisemitic hatred of Sarah Milgrim and Yaron Lichinsky, officials working for Israel’s Embassy, outside the Jewish Museum in Washington, after an event about peace-making and on the threshold of their marriage? Yaron, who grew up in Germany, was known to my colleague Rabbi Levi as a gifted, talented and very likeable young man. He and Sarah were dedicated longtime peacebuilders – Sarah wrote her graduate thesis on “the role of friendships in the Israeli-Palestinian peacebuilding process.” (The Jerusalem Youth Chorus Newsletter)

Our hearts go out to their families and friends, and we pray for the safety of all our communities.

This has also been a week of powerful international outcry, including from within Israel, at the lack of adequate humanitarian aid reaching Palestinian children in Gaza, trapped between the cynical nihilism of Hamas and Israel’s attacks. I stand with those Jewish, Israeli and international organisations who urge that sufficient aid be let in, with all due and essential safeguards to prevent it from falling into the vicious and merciless hands of Hamas. I don’t know the names or characters of the children who may be hungry, or have been killed, but their parents for sure do. Judaism teaches that an innocent life is a life, that every life matters, that we try to protect innocent life even amidst the horrors of war, and that we all carry within us, whether we honour it or desecrate it, the image of God.

Amidst these terrors, it would be wrong, un-Jewish and lacking in faith and hope to lose sight entirely of the vision held out in our Torah. ‘Ukeratem dror: Proclaim freedom,’ the Torah commands: ‘Let everyone return to their inheritance and their family.’ If only it were so! Dror, which here means freedom, is also the name of a bird, probably the swallow, that dips and rises over the fields. So do our hopes fall, – and must rise again. So must we cherish what gifts, friendships and solidarity we can gather.

In that vein, I received the following messages yesterday. Lord Kahn’s office called, sharing deep concern and offering support for our community. Julie Siddiqi, an eloquent Muslim leader who’s worked for Nisa-Nashim and Hope Not Hate, sent a what’s-app: ‘Senseless, heartbreaking, the young couple killed in Washington. Sending love to you and your community.’ Judith Baker emailed on behalf of The Quakers: ‘We send our condolences to you and the Jewish community and hold the victims and their families and friends in our prayers.’ Our rabbinic colleagues in the States shared verses from Psalms: ‘God stays close to the broken-hearted, providing salvation to those crushed in spirit.’ 

Among these greetings, which cannot be taken for granted, I am especially moved by these words from The Jerusalem Youth Chorus:
 

It is precisely in these darkest moments that [our] work becomes not just important, but urgent—. Our Palestinian and Israeli singers know intimately the weight of this violence; each of them has been touched by loss, fear, and grief. Yet they continue to choose each other. They continue to choose the radical act of singing together…of refusing to let the loudest voices around them define their future. (https://www.jerusalemyouthchorus.org/ )
Time and again I’m asked to focus on hope, on what we can do to take a sad world and make it better. Therefore, I try to pray and work, alongside so many others, for my own Jewish People, for all people across our countries, faiths and communities who simply seek to live a good, honest and happy life, and for this very earth, with all its species of life, that we must cherish and nurture, so that it continues to sustain us all.

Kabbalah and Counting: the mystical qualities of the Omer

I remember walking across Jerusalem looking for an Omer-counter. I wanted something both beautiful and mystical.

Omer’ is a measure of quantity, apparently equivalent to 2.2 litres, and refers to the offering of barley harvested on the night after the first day of Passover. But it’s come to mean the period of forty-nine days which links Pesach to Shavuot, the festival which marks freedom from Egypt, to the festival which celebrates the freedom to receive and follow the Torah.

I found what I wanted not in a boutique for religious artefacts but in an olivewood workshop. Olivewood has age and depth, resilience and beauty. My counter showed not just each date from ‘one’ to ‘forty-nine’ but, in tiny writing in the bottom corner, the kabbalistic quality of each day.

Today is the thirty-third day, Lag Be’Omer, celebrated as the date when the plague afflicting Rabbi Akiva’s pupils in the first or second century ceased. Mourning is suspended, music is permitted, bonfires are lit, and, most practically, if I have a free moment, I can finally get a haircut – so long as the barbers in this very Jewish borough of Barnet aren’t all booked out.

But what about that small writing in the corner of the counter? It’s hard to explain briefly, but each week of the Omer is dedicated to a kabbalistic quality: first hesed, loving kindness; then gevurah, strength; tiferet, truth or beauty; netzach, triumph or endurance; hod, humility; yesod, foundation; and malchut, sovereignty. Each separate day focusses on a specific quality within its week, guiding a detailed emotional and spiritual journey towards trying to hear God’s words now as once they were heard at Sinai.

Today’s quality is hod she’ba’ hod, humility within humility.

My teacher, Rabbi Louis Jacobs, liked to share the Hasidic teaching that everyone should have two pebbles, one in each pocket. On the first should be inscribed the Mishnah’s words, ‘The world was created for my sake.’ On the second should be the verse, ‘I am but dust and ashes.’ Wisdom is knowing when to take out which pebble.

I used to think that ‘dust and ashes’ was about humility, while seeing the world as ‘all for me’ was the opposite. But that’s wrong. Wonder is also humility: ‘Notice this magnificence, this intricacy, diversity.’ Nicky says her day is made if she sees a kingfisher.

In such moments, ‘for me’ doesn’t mean ‘aren’t I special,’ but rather, ‘what a privilege to be alive and see such beauty.’ ‘Dust and ashes’ doesn’t mean ‘I’m rubbish,’ but rather, ‘I know I’m mortal, so how treasured this brief privilege should be.’ Together the pebbles lead us neither to pride nor self-deprecation, but to the question: ‘How can I best care for life, my life, other’s lives, any life, in all its fragile vulnerability?’
 
As Arthur Green writes in A Kabbalah for Tomorrow: ‘Hod is the other side of wisdom, the self that bows before the mystery of what is as it is, the self who submits to reality and rejoices in doing so.’

I witnessed this when I served in the chaplaincy at the local hospice. After complex emotional journeys, perhaps through hope, anger, grief, regret, many people reached, in dying, places of appreciation. I’ll never forget the man and his wife to whose room I was called to share a prayer even though I’d never met them. ‘Tell us a verse about life’s wonder,’ they requested, ‘because together we have loved it.’

That’s hod she’ba’hod, humility, gratitude and graciousness woven together. I hold on to their words in these cruel times like a rope to climb up the cliffs of anguish to the green plateau of hope.

Get in touch...