Moletai and a poem

30 Aug

Having read an incredibly powerful piece written by a Lithuanian from the town of Molotai who tries to come to terms with his town’s dark history (read it, it’s worth it!) I wrote a poem about national conscience and the holocaust.

Here it is:

How do you clean the blood?

 

How do you clean  the blood?

That’s congealed

Under  fingernails

Between teeth

Lodged in a soul

Smudged in the crevices

Of a conscience

That denies its own existence?

 

Do you pinch your nostrils

At the rotten stench

Fasten blinkers

And  vainly blacken the etched image

Of bodies piled in a pit?

Or speak empty words

To seemingly quieten the screams

That seep into your dreams?

 

Do you delude yourselves

That years going by will cleanse

That darkening stain

Of blood

That feeds the roots of virgin trees?

 

Do you dream that forgetfulness forgives?

The Tainted Grain

20 Apr

There is a Rebbe Nachman story that has come to my mind many times in the past few years. This year, looking at the Pesach madness and feeling myself both drawn towards it and repelled by it at the same time, I think again about this story. It goes as follows:

The king’s star gazer saw that the grain harvested that year was tainted. Anyone who would eat from it would became insane. “What can we do?” said the king. “It is not possible to destroy the crop for we do not have enough grain stored to feed the entire population.”

“Perhaps,” said the star gazer, “we should set aside enough grain for ourselves. At least that way we could maintain our sanity.” The king replied, “If we do that, we’ll be considered crazy. If everyone behaves one way and we behave differently, we’ll be considered the not normal ones.

“Rather,” said the king, “I suggest that we too eat from the crop, like everyone else. However, to remind ourselves that we are not normal, we will make a mark on our foreheads. Even if we are insane, whenever we look at each other, we will remember that we are insane!”

We are limited by this world. We see our reality through the spectacles of time, place, emotion and the limitations of these concepts. We long for things we know will bring us no true happiness and satisfaction, we fear what we should embrace (death) and embrace what we should fear (disconnection from God). We are really part of this madness in some way or another and we’re helpless. We see the linear rather than the infinite and we constantly blind ourselves to God’s constant presence and messages. This crazy world is our madness that we will be afflicted with until the day we die.

Is there anything we can do to prevent the affliction? Not much. But those stickers on our brow, the reminder of what we once lost and what we ought to have may serve to gently prod us into questioning the reality we live in.

Yes, we’re mad too, in our own way. But at least we know it.

 

 

It’s Time to Come Clean

16 Apr

I’ve lived with religion in some way or another for most of my life. Whether it is a bit of tradition here, or a bit of fundamentalism there, I’ve incorporated religiousness into my life in one way or another, hoping that being with God would come along with it. I guess it’s like investing in an expensive oven in the hope that one day  you’ll be a gourmet chef. One is not really connected with the other at all.

Now I know that it’s not religion that I want, it’s God.

Yes, religion is a place of belonging, community, ‘good feeling’, order, predictability, support and the safety of having someone, somewhere, who will answer your questions for you. It’s a really safe place.

The decision to leave this cocooned environment is fraught with danger, doubt, isolation and loneliness. Religious people can’t get you….you were ‘there’….how can you go without? And when you try to explain to them….well, hate to break it to you, my friends, but the more I got into religion the less I saw God and I want God in my life. No, my friends, I don’t want ‘your God’, who is static and rigid, who cowers behind those who crave power and insubordination, who is mute and blind. My God, is the God who knows me and understands me, whose love for me is something that is all-encompasssing, a God who resides inside my heart and guides me in a quiet voice….This God of mine speaks a universal language and doesn’t require a power hierarchy.

Yes, I’ve got my beliefs and my mission statement sorted out. But coming clean when it comes to everything religiosity entails (especially when you are surrounded by it) is the harder part.

This year I will not be participating in a ‘rabbinical’ Pesach Seder as such. And this is not an easy thing.

When the whole world (or so it seems), secular and religious alike participates in  this family ceremony (which isn’t such a terrible ceremony when you come to think of it; full of fun and stories and togetherness and remembering our roots in Egypt) and you decide that this, albeit pleasant is so far from ‘real’ that you can no longer partake in it, you’ve made a strong statement.

One could argue, who cares? Participate, play the part, include yourself in the community and keep your private thoughts to yourself! Yet thought and action have to connect- surely doing one thing and thinking another is falsity personified. And God is there, this is after all about Him and us! How can we possibly ever hear what God (yes, the God who speaks to us, day after day) has to say on the matter of the exodus when we just continue to do our own thing, rabbiting from prayer books and feeling good about our religious accomplishments, from preparing the right charoset to staying up all night debating rabbinical sayings?

No, this isn’t me any more, it doesn’t reflect my beliefs, it doesn’t reflect who I am.

Yes, what will be for me, as everyone sits down for their national religious ceremony is nebulous. Maybe there isn’t an alternative ‘seder night’ at all. Maybe one hour sitting in God’s presence with quiet and peace is enough, or maybe more is required. Yes, it’s a vacuum in a sense. A vacuum that could cause those who feel as I do to run to the warm embrace of tradition and religiousness simply to escape the  loneliness of questioning.

But I’ve come clean. I’m not living the life of others. I want God. This God is not the God of others, He’s mine and I’ve got to trust Him to show me what celebrating the exodus is really like.

 

 

 

 

 

The Banality of Adjectives

22 Mar

Today I observed two interactions that disturbed me a lot. In one, a video of kids parading their Purim costumes  was shared with a colleague on whatsapp, to which she responded ‘incredible!’. In another, another Purim shot was shared, also on whatsapp with a family member of someone’s children dressed up in pretty ordinary looking costumes. The response was ‘fantastic!’.

These reactions were inappropriate, out of context and thoroughly exaggerated. So what, you say, why should I care? Well, if a plastic ninja outfit is ‘fantastic’, and teens dressed as butterflies are ‘incredible’, then what adjectives would you use to describe the warm orange glow of a sunset, the view while perched on a mountain in  the Himalayas, watching an egg hatch or a rare butterfly open its wings? Are these wonders of Creation simply ‘very fantastic’ or ‘extremely incredible’?

It might even be worse than that. It might be that language has ceased to serve its function. A person no longer has the lexicon by which to truly appreciate that which is appreciable.

You might say it’s me. So, what. Speech is free, it’s your problem.

Yes, I have a problem with inappropriate and banale adjectives. Is it simply because I love language and its precision? Partly yes but mostly not.

The ability to communicate ideas, stories, hopes and dreams is something that separates us from animals. Yes, animals communicate, but not in the way we do. Our distinctly human souls are embedded in the language we speak and I feel our language should express this.

Notice how I added the ‘I feel’. Perhaps that is the key to using and not abusing language, as I illustrated above. Rather than taking superlatives and sprinkling them at will, like chocolate chips and brown sugar, maybe we should start to personalize the way we perceive the world. Perhaps we should qualify our adjectives with ‘I feel’ or ‘This makes me think….’ or ‘In my opinion, this is….’ That actually might be quite interesting.

In the opinion of a  person, who doesn’t have experience to reference from, a bite of a fast food hamburger is ‘fantastic’. So he or she should state ‘This Mcd’s hamburger, in my opinion, tastes fantastic.’ That is OK by me. It’s your opinion and not mine. You’re not attempting to color the world with your superficial brush. You just wish to show me your interpretation of the world through your eyes. I can dig that.

How does this connect to Godliness. Well, God’s word is the word of silence. The highest ideal we can achieve  is  an intimate understanding of Him and His world, where no words, no adjectives or superlatives are necessary. When we stand at God’s feet and contemplate his glory, we cannot help but be filled with it…that feeling that no words can really justify….but where ‘awe’ and ‘wonder’ come to mind.

For God just ‘is’ and so too, is his  awesome and wonderful world. (And no adjectives are really necessary).

How much are we willing to admit we are wrong?

11 Sep

Life is a card game….we are given a hand of cards and as life goes on, cards get exchanged and new ones get added.

But some of us will hold on to our hand as if our life depended on it…forgetting that within seconds, our luck could change anyway. Yes, our hand is important, but it’s temporary.

How much are we willing to throw in the hand of cards, to free ourselves of all of the things we rely on, depend on, can’t do without? How willing are we to let the Dealer give us the next hand?

God is constantly asking us to revise and review. Nothing is ours, nothing is a given. What is fact today will become fiction tomorrow. What is relevant now will become outdated maybe even before it goes public. We live on shifting sands.

God demands that we admit our mistakes, God demands that we change and grow, God wants us to stop clinging on to things that don’t belong to us.

מה השאלה שאלוהים שואל אותנו היום?

16 Aug

Thanks Luisa, so simply put but so well- said. Yes, why aren’t we relating to God in real dialogue?

אלוהים ואני

אלוהים באהבתו הרבה לנו, ילדיו,  מסכים לענות על כל מיני שאלות שיש לנו, למרות שמשחקי פינג פונג הם לא הבסיס לקשר אינטימי.

יש שאלות לגיטימיות כגון : “למה באנו לעולם הזה” [כדי למצוא גאולה אישית], שעליהן אלוהים עונה בסבלנות רבה.

יש שאלות  חצופות שאנחנו מפנים לבורא העולם: “למה בראת רוע” [אלוהים לא בורא רע כי הוא רק אהבה]

יש שאלות כספומט: “למה אין לי פרנסה, זוגיות, משפחה” [מפני שזאת לא מטרת החיים] שגם אליהן אלוהים מתייחס.

אך אלוהים תמיד לימד אותי שגם לו יש שאלות אלינו, והן הרבה יותר חשובות, כי בתשובה שאנחנו עונים או לא מסוגלים לענות, שם נמצא ליבנו:

“האם אתה מרגיש שאני אבא אוהב”?

“האם אתה מאמין שאני עושה צדק”?

“האם אתה חושב שאני דורש מצוות”?

כפי שאלוהים דיבר עם איוב, אז, כך הוא פונה אלינו היום ומזמין גם אותנו להקשיב ולענות:

” בואו התפנו אלי,

כי גם לי שאלות אליכם, וענו לי עליהן” [איוב לח’:ג’]

אלוהים מוכן לדבר ללב…

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The one movie that sums it all up…..

13 Aug

Not for the faint-hearted, this short movie reveals the breadth and depth of the violent teachings of Islam. Let no one say they didn’t realise. Islam is not a religion of peace, it is a religion of violent domination.

I feel in my heart that we are going into an era of darkness and it’s up to us to wake up and go back to God, the Real God, the God of Love, Truth and Peace, before it’s too late.