Yom HaShoah 2009

Reflections from Israel

By Rabbi Matthew Berkowitz

It was not my first experience of the piercing siren calling Israelis to stop and remember, and now this will be an annual event in my life. Over the past twenty-four hours, Israelis and Jews the world over have been marking Yom Hasho'ah, Holocaust Memorial Day. Here in Jerusalem, the day began with darkness, literally and figuratively, descending upon the city. Adir and I walked down Emek Refaim to the Yom Hasho'ah service at our congregation, Kehilat Shira Hadasha. Many of you are familiar with the verve of this boulevard lined with restaurants and cafes. Well, last night at 8:00 p.m., not a single one was open for business. A chilling silence and absence took hold in what is normally a street full of life and celebration. We were all transitioning into a sacred space of remembrance.

A survivor of Auschwitz, originally from Czechoslovakia, spoke to an attentive audience at Shira Hadasha. The ceremony opened with the congregation singing two Yiddish songs, and then the survivor, who had traveled from Ramat Gan, took center stage. She spoke of the thriving Jewish community she came from, the close sense of family and deep Jewishness that permeated everything in her childhood. And then that life came to a dramatic end. When, eventually, she found herself on the platform of Auschwitz (at the age of ten) shaking with fear and holding on to her mother's dress, the infamous Dr. Mengele shouted, "Are there any twins? Anyone with twins in this crowd?" Her mother pushed this little girl and her sister forward, not knowing what was in store for her children but still believing their fate would be better than hers. These girls became the object of weekly experiments by Mengele. Somehow, both she and her sister survived, eventually making their way to Israel. She now has four grandchildren: an architect, lawyer, doctor, and one finishing in the army.

This morning, Miriam and I walked to Adir's school in the Old City. He and his class had spent about two weeks preparing for a hatzaga (play) commemorating the Holocaust. We arrived early so we would have front row seats. The space in which the tekes (ceremony) was held was cramped with parents and children. The event began at 9:50 a.m., with the principal explaining that there would be some introductory words and a song and that at 10:00 a.m., when the siren sounded, we would all stand at attention with our heads down reflecting on the tragedy that befell the Jewish people. As one of the narrators, Adir did a masterful job. In perfectly accented Hebrew he declared, "One and a half million of the victims were children, just like you and me. They were murdered only because they were Jews. We, the Children of Israel, live here in the land, showing the NazisÑmay their name be blotted out from under the heavensÑthat the eternal people Israel lives!" The siren then sounded throughout the country. As we stood with upright posture and our heads bent in respect, the chilling cry of the siren pierced heart and soulÑcompelling each and every one of us to reflect on the tragic homelessness of the Jewish people, virulent anti-Semitism, and widespread inhumanity and indifference that brought about the annihilation of six million Jews. Adir's class then put on a spectacular and moving performance that journeyed through the years of persecution, internment, murder, and redemption. Each child projected and spoke with a sense of pride and great sensitivity. The play culminated in each of the twenty-four singing children taking hold of a brilliant blue and white Israeli flag.

These deeply personal experiences are all the more significant when seen against the events playing out in Geneva. While the world gives a forum to an Iranian leader who makes a mockery of a conference on racism by seeking to perpetrate a second Holocaust, the Jewish people around the world and in their own land do what they do bestÑaffirm life. Miriam and I concluded this emotionally charged day by visiting the grave of Oskar Schindler. Schindler, as many of you know well, is credited with saving twelve hundred Jews from the Holocaust. He was given the title of one of the "Righteous of the Nations" by Yad Vashem, Israel's Holocaust Memorial, and in 1974 he was buried in a cemetery just outside of the Zion Gate in Jerusalem. Today, his gravestone is covered in stones left by (predominantly Jewish) visitors who have come to pay tribute to this soul made famous in the movie Schindler's List. As we are today witness to the evils of a non-Jew spewing hatred and bigotry in the international arena, let us not forget that there are also good people like Oskar Schindler (as imperfect as he was) who affirm our faith in humanity and in God.

With wishes for a more hopeful future for the Jewish people and the world,
Rabbi Matthew Berkowitz