Empathic Rationalism begins at home, which means
that we all have a God-given right to empathize with ourselves. That in turns affords us the right to vent,
at least to ourselves, if not publicly.
Truly, no religious person should ever have a totally
lousy Thanksgiving weekend. After all, a
big part of faith is feeling gratitude to our Ultimate Benefactor, and
Thanksgiving weekend is set aside every year to do just that. So yes, allow me to thank God for giving us a
world that is so wonderful that, for most of us, our worst fear involves
departing from the world or having loved ones depart from it. Even on weekends like this one – where, at
least for me, not too much has gone well – we still need to be thankful for
what we do have. And that is
plenty.
Here in America, a lot of people are unhappy about
this month’s election. Some loonies on
the left are spending millions of dollars to see if they can undo its apparent results. Others on that side of the political
spectrum are so depressed that, even now, nearly three weeks after the
election, they have trouble getting out of bed or carrying on their daily
duties. Personally, I’m experiencing no
shortage of trepidation about the immediate future, but I’m going about my
business – and I’m thankful about that, because doing office work has probably
been the high point of my weekend so far.
Not exactly what the Pilgrims had in mind.
But on this Thanksgiving Shabbat morning, my
thoughts are really not about myself and any minor struggles I might be going
through. I’m thinking about life
halfway across the world in a small place called Israel. At least I call it that. Others feel that the name “Israel” is an anathema
to their lips.
Sheikh Mishary Alfasy Rashid is likely one such
person. As I prepare to help coordinate
the Washington D.C., Imam-Rabbi Summit for the third time, Sheikh Rashid, the
imam of Kuwait’s Grand Mosque was busy this week tweeting to his 11 million
followers. Suffice it to say that the vibe
he brings to Muslim-Jewish affairs is a bit different than my own – or at least
that’s what I’ve been gathering from reading the Jerusalem Post, one of the
world’s leading English-language newspapers about Israel.
After reflecting on the fact that tens of thousands
of Haifa residents have been displaced from their homes due to more than a
dozen fires that have been raging in their country, Sheikh Rashid tweeted in
Arabic, "Good luck to the fires.
#Israel_IsBurning," and punctuated this with a smiley face icon and photos
of the fires.
One of Rashid’s
countryman, a Sheikh named Nabil Ali al-Awad, was forced to content himself
with tweeting to a mere six million followers – barely half the audience that
Sheikh Rashid enjoys. Sheik al-Awad’s
contribution to the discourse was to say that “God burned their hearts and
their homes and their money and their bodies and make their graves
inflamed...because of what they did to the [Muslim] believers,” before
providing the hashtag "#Israel_IsBurning." Later, as you might expect, Sheik al-Awad
apologized for his tweet. Specifically,
he apologized for using the word “Israel” in his earlier tweet,” adding that "there
is no such entity. I used the word as part of a hashtag."
Sheikh’s Rashid and al-Awad reflect one side of Muslim
opinion, one that obviously has quite a few adherents. And let us interfaith advocates please not
whitewash that truth. But there is, fortunately,
another side of Muslim opinion, rest assured about that as well. It is reflected by the fact that Muslims from
all over the region have been providing Israel with fire fighters to damp down the
blazes. At least two different teams of
fire fighters who were deployed to help in Haifa were Palestinians who were
sent by the Palestinian authority. Thanks
to them, in addition to photos indicating that “#Israel Is Burning,” we also now
have photos of Israeli and Palestinian men working together on the sacred task of saving
Israel ... or Palestine ... or whatever you want to call the place known to me
as the Holy Land. Why do I call it
that? There are many reasons, not the
least of which is that were it not for my trip there in 1981, I still might not
believe in any “Ultimate Benefactor” to whom to give thanks.
The biggest tragedy that is happening in Israel this
week doesn’t involve the death of plants, though plants are holy. Nor does it involve the destruction of
homes, though homes are holy. Nor – and believe
me, this is especially hard to write – does it even involve the injuries, some
of which are critical injuries, to dozens of suffering Israelis. The greatest tragedy is that the nation is
now ablaze with the same kind of accusations and mistrust that have been
destroying the soul of this place for decade upon decade, with seemingly no end
in sight, and seemingly no limit to the future destruction that those forces
will bring. Israeli officials are
publicly declaring that much of the fire damage is a result of Palestinian
arson. Palestinian officials are publicly
declaring that those who allege arson have engaged in an irresponsible rush to
judgment. And for any of us who don’t
live in the Holy Land and who actually care about what goes on there, we’re
left to our own speculation and biases when it comes to deciding what really is
happening and why.
The only thing we can really know beyond a
reasonable doubt is how difficult it will be to make peace between the two
peoples who are fighting over the Holy Land. Oh, it is easy enough to envision the leaders
of the Palestinians and Jews inking some sort of treaty. But how would such a treaty – which surely
would be opposed by substantial minorities -- eliminate all the hatred that exists
between the two peoples? How would the
fact that many rabbis and imams attend summits together and send intrepid
followers to fight fires together outweigh the fact that many other leaders in
this region are so blinded by their hatred that they cheer the destruction of
trees, homes, even lives, and attribute the slaughter to the will of God? Assuming the latter continue to have millions
upon millions of followers, and some of these followers have access to weapons,
how could that ever-evasive but ultimately-inevitable peace treaty possibly
bring real peace to the region?
But enough with such questions. Let me end this with something inspiring,
not depressing.
I will give you a link to a song by the great Debbie
Friedman, who gave the world so many beautiful Jewish melodies before she
passed away five years ago at the age of 60.
The lyrics to the song are below.
To state the obvious, the land she is talking about in this song, well –
it is the same land that has been burning these past few days. But don’t worry, as filled as that land is
with pain and suffering, it is equally resilient. Nothing is more resilient than Israel.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8WrShnKTWY
L'chi lach, to a land that I will
show you
Leich l'cha, to a place you do not know
L'chi lach, on your journey I will bless you
Leich l'cha, to a place you do not know
L'chi lach, on your journey I will bless you
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi
lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi lach
L'chi lach, and I shall make your
name great
Leich l'cha, and all shall praise your name
L'chi lach, to the place that I will show you
Leich l'cha, and all shall praise your name
L'chi lach, to the place that I will show you
l'chi lach
(L'sim-chat cha-yim) l'chi lach
(L'sim-chat cha-yim) l'chi lach
(L'sim-chat cha-yim) l'chi lach
(L'sim-chat cha-yim) l'chi lach