YOM HASHOAH REMARKS 2024

At the end of World War II and as the depth and breadth of the Shoah was coming to light, our Jewish world was devastated.  Even with all the news coming out of Europe about the extermination of the Jews, each new day brought shed more light on the atrocities committed. Our educational institutions tried to keep up.  Our theology tried to come to terms with what had happened and our families sought to deal with the extermination of those left in Europe.  The Shoah was, for us Jews, an earth-shaking event from which we have not barely recovered even the simple arithmetic of the same number Jews that were lost. Our souls were crushed but still, we survived.

And once again, October 7,  on that black Shabbat, we felt the same stirrings of fear and disgust at the world’s hatred of the Jewish people. And when Israel started to fight back, the hatred grew worse.  It is a fundamental truth that the world loves dead Jews but hates when Jews fight back.  So many people, including many of our own young people, understood the Holocaust but only on an academic level. What too many failed to grasp, and still fail to grasp, is the spiritual and emotional connection to the people that perished on that Simchat Torah in the Negev desert. To those people screaming ‘From the River to the Sea’ this was not a mini-Holocaust.  It was, rather, something that the Jews deserved. Can you imagine that young people from our very community holding up the banners and signs that expressed a desire to wipe out Jews from the Land of Israel?  We never thought we’d see such a thing and yet, and yet, here we are.

Is there a comparison between the Shoah and October 7th? In many respects, no, but in some respects, yes.  There is a line directly drawn between 1939 and 2024 of external hatred and ignorance of what and who Jews are and it is the line of pure anti-Semitism, the world’s oldest hatred. It is a hatred that we in the West have read about and studied but, too often, falsely reassured ourselves that it can never happen here.  And yet, here we are, once again. In college campuses swastikas are painted on library walls. In places like Toronto, where I come from with a huge Jewish community, it takes days to get crews out to clean the broken glass and paint over the blatantly anti-Semitic graffiti on the walls not because no one is willing to do it but rather, in their own words, ‘there are just too many places that need to be repaired.’ And to watch anti-Semites break glass to desecrate Jewish stores, libraries, and schools is not simply an evocation of Kristallnacht.  It IS Kristallnacht redux.

Like the Shoah, so many books will try to analyze the events, the hatred, the response to October 7th just like we did and still do with the events of the Holocaust. But the Jewish world’s response to these recent events must equal or be greater than the response to the Shoah. Our response can no longer be simply academic. Our response can no longer be ‘it can’t happen here.’ Because it already has. Our response has to be one fundamentally rooted in the Jewish spirit.  It has to be a response of specifically and actively strengthening Jewish education, Jewish community, Jewish affiliation and Jewish pride. Communities must find the resources to send our children to Jewish summer camps and Jewish day schools and, of course, to Israel. Our responses must be something we do, not simply something we are.

A bit of history: when the Yishuv began in the 1920’s and British Mandate Palestine setting the foundations for the modern state of Israel, the mostly-young people who drained the swamps and risked malaria, who built the kibbutzim and planted banana trees in the desert and who established the bedrock upon which modern Israel was born, were not looked upon by everyone favorably. Many people did not appreciate these secular Jews and thought that they were creating simply a place for Jews and not necessarily and Jewish place. Those who were opposed to these secular builders approached Rav Kook, the spiritual head of the Yishuv and complained to him. Although Orthodox himself he responded that these same people about whom they were complaining were kley-kodesh, they were holy vessels and were God’s tools and partners in building a state.

Today, post October 7, we have seen shameful displays by Jews toward other Jews in the same way that we saw shameful displays of Jews toward other Jews during the Shoah. But we have also seen Jews, not necessarily traditional in the orthodox sense of the word, embrace their Jewish selves, discover their Jewish pride, and maybe most importantly, have discovered their place in the covenant. We have seen who our friends are and we see clearly who we can trust. We have seen the politicians that pal around with those advocating genocide. We will not forget them.  We have seen the college professors who have stated that murdering Jews is legitimate. We will not forget them. And we have heard the echoes of Mein Kampf flow from the lips of too many leading church congregations and inspiring their followers with hatred toward Jews. Again, we will not forget them.

And we won’t forget those who stood up to the hatred. Though many were silent during the Shoah, many weren’t and today, we have many allies and friends. Their friendship will help to sustain us and will support us as we begin to heal from October 7. But the simple truth is that it is each individual Jew, you who are here and those not here this evening, that will help the Jewish body and soul heal. Our renewed task is before us and, as always, I have faith that Jewish creativity and spirit is up to the task. And that task started on October 8.