In Memory of Clara. Once Again.

Today is Yom HaShoah, the day comemorating the Holocaust. I am reprising an essay from 2016 in memory of Clara Eisenstein who was, and remains,  a blessing in my life. 

What is the linguistic difference between the words Holocaust and Shoah?  The latter refers to  an occurrence of utter calamity,  the laying waste of and complete desolation of the Jews. Holocaust, on the other hand,  derives from the Greek referring to a burnt sacrifice offered to a god.  The Nazis’ intent was not a religious offering but the complete and utter destruction of all Jewish life. While the difference is indeed profound outside of Israel Holocaust is the more common usage outside of Israel.

 

photo courtesy of the Vermont Holocaust Museum.

 

 

Read or Leave Comments ()

New Attack/Same Old Hatred

We can use the law to punish. We can continue to monitor the dark web in hopes of pre-empting those who make it their life’s purpose to kill Jews. We can continue to divert funds to security mesaures instead of earmarking those hundreds of millions of dollars for education, scholarships, programming and more. Two thousand plus years of history have taught us that we cannot stop others from hating us. That hatred has always begun in the homes of others. In their hearts. In their countries and from their pulpits and schools. And as is now the new reality in our own universities and public school systems, too, It’s cloaked as “anti-oppression” and “anti-Zionism” but it’s still the same old same old same old damn hatred of a people who piss off the haters by just being alive. By thriving. By inventing. By creating. By innovating.  By persisting to celebrate life even, how dare we!, barely 24-hours after our synagogues are attacked. We show up to celebrate life, to praise the G’d of Life, to offer prayers of thanksgiving and prayers for peace for all people everywhere.

Now for some news from the other side of the coin. The miracle side. Ayman Mohamad Ghazali took no one’s life at Temple Israel but his own.   The synagogue’s security team had been trained for the possibility of an attack. Their bravery and quick action saved everyone’s, get that everyone’s lives who were there on an ordinary Thursday.

And here’s where the goodness that is America stepped up. Yes, the goodness of a nation built upon a covenantal text that calls upon its citizens to reach out and be neighborly, to protect one another’s rights, to stand together. We may not always answer the call, yet last Thursday it was answered time and again. A Neighbors opened their homes to the nursery schoolers and their teachers. Shenandoah Country Club, across the street from Temple Israel, welcomed the school buses arriving with nursery schoolers and their teachers.  Their kitchen staff was ready with chicken nuggets and French fries. Shenandoah’s members are Chaldean Christians of Iraqi descent who fled the country’s religious persecution. Their members and Temple Israel’s have enjoyed a supportive and respectful relationship for decades. Shenandoah’s leadership reached out to Temple Israel’s rabbis offering space to hold Friday evening Shabbat Serivces the following day.

It didn’t take the media long to justify the terrorist’s actions: he was grieving the deaths of two of his brothers, a niece and a nephew in an Israeli Air Force strike on a known Hezbollah military structure. According to the Israel Defense Force one of the brothers, Ibrahim Muhammad Ghazali, was a Hezbollah commander responsible for managing weapons operations within a specialized branch of the Badr Unit. The unit is responsible for launching hundreds of rockets toward Israeli civilians throughout the war.

Here’s my question and it should be yours as well every time you hear the media’s rationalizations. Why is grief an excuse for the attempted murder of 110 nursery schoolers, their teachers, and other staffmembers?

There is no justification. A Jew is a human being. Temple Israel is a synagogue. Israel is a country. They are not synonymous.

 

 

 

Read or Leave Comments ()

How Can One Not Smile?

Often comically imaged, saguaro cacti are actually magnificent.  It’s impossible not to anthromorphize them. Two raised arms and they become prickly pugilists daring you to “put up your dukes.”  Sometime those arms seem raised in prayer as if beseeching the skies for rain. Or maybe simply gratitude to be alive? It takes a saguaro between 50 and 70 years to sprout its first arm. A saguaro’s average lifespan iruns between 150 and 200 years.  Desert birds build nests within them and their huge white flowers bloom at night in May-June providing nectar for bats, bees, and birds.  Walking among them is yet another experience of nature’s infinite variety and interdependence.

This trio caught my heart. What a sweet, if prickly, family!  

 

photo by Debra Darvick, Black Canyon, Arizona

Read or Leave Comments ()

Tree Hiker

It all began when Martin tossed our hats over a branch. I looked up and my kid brain saw a head beneath the  hats. A hiker needs some poles, doesn’t she? And if she’s going on a hike she’s going to need some supplies, right? So I outfitted her.  

Read or Leave Comments ()

Grandlove

Leah is learning how to write which opens up a new avenue of communication.  What better way to begin and end the day than to read these baby love notes from our youngest granddaughter? She told me today that she is getting new shoes.  With laces! She is excited to learn how to tie her own shoes.  Stay tuned.

Read or Leave Comments ()