On Forgiveness, Part 3

And, now as promised, the remainder of my reply to The Sunflower and my analysis of forgiveness.   Where we left off, I had finished explaining there is really no way that the dying Nazi can be forgiven, as murder is unforgivable and there might be good reason to doubt the sincerity of his remorse.  Where we left off, I was explaining how deathbed pardons seem insincere and inappropriate to me. 

Why then is this sort of pardon considered acceptable by some?  This seems to be something found often in Christian tradition, where deathbed confessions and conversions are frequently performed.  There also seems to be a popular mythology in Christian traditions that one does not lie when about to die, so confessions made at that time are bound to be honest and come from the heart.  I would firmly disagree with that notion.  Death is something many are greatly afraid of, especially if one believes in an afterlife where God will judge their actions in life.  If what they have done will be likely to lead to eternal condemnation they will want to do anything they can to improve their standing, even though when death was not staring them in the face this was not considered a priority.

Christian traditions also seem to explain why many think this Nazi should have been forgiven.  In this area I do not have as much expertise, but I think this stems from the teaching that forgiveness is the greatest virtue that every Christian should practice.  In general, I do not disagree, but this leads to something more problematic.  People are extolled as highly virtuous for forgiving the most heinous of acts, as though the ability to forgive the worst atrocities shows how pious they are and how good a Christian they are.  This happens often in the absence even of a request for forgiveness from the guilty party, let alone true evidence of atonement.  This generates the notion that forgiveness is an act that only has impact upon the victim – it is a way for them to heal and move on with their lives.  If you look at the comments on part 1, I believe this is what Scottie and Randy are referring to when they speak of forgiving.  Not forgiving is not the same as holding a grudge.  Carrying the hurt around can absolutely be emotionally and psychologically damaging, but it seems here the beneficial forgiveness that must occur is completely internal – you must forgive yourself for whatever perceived sins you may have internalized.  When you are blaming yourself there is no other injured party (except perhaps loved ones who must put up with you) so this process would not involve another party.  I think this is of particular benefit in the case of a victim of abuse.  There is often a great deal of internalized guilt and self-blame for any number of reasons, which also sometimes manifests itself as hatred of the abuser (or abusers in general).  This is damaging in so many ways and the process of forgiveness is probably a good way to heal from this kind of damage.  But this has nothing to do with forgiving an external guilty party.  They must come to you of their own accord, sincerely request forgiveness, make restitution, and show at least an indication that they have truly changed and would act differently in the future.  The case in The Sunflower completely lacks the latter two elements, and even for the first part, there are reasons to doubt the sincerity of the remorse.

And then there is the very act of relating this litany of horrors to Wiesenthal, an inmate of a concentration camp who had every reason to expect he would soon be killed in such a manner as Karl describes.  Karl’s description of the scene was very detailed and vivid.  As the story was being told, Simon was reminded of a boy he knew in the Ghetto, who had managed to keep himself alive for some time but, in the end, eventually was seen no more and was almost certainly killed too.  It almost seems a form of torture in these circumstances, as several of the published responses have noted.  Wiesenthal is already in a struggle just to stay alive – is it fair that he now be subjected to another graphic account of the horror waiting for him and then be asked to forgive this – or bear the emotional burden of not forgiving and then later doubting himself.  Or possibly even fear the consequences of a refusal.  The confessor is a Nazi in a Nazi hospital and Simon is a Jewish prisoner.  If Karl had asked to have Simon killed, it would have been done.  This too casts doubts on the sincerity of Karl’s remorse.  Can he truly understand the gravity of his crime and be fully remorseful if he does not seem to acknowledge the position in which he places his confessor?  Some have even suggested this is yet another sin being committed as he asks for forgiveness of another.

So this is why Karl cannot be forgiven and, in general, why certain crimes are unforgiveable.  But at this point you may ask:  it all seems quite logical, but isn’t this just a bit too harsh?  What about compassion or sympathy?  Well, thinking of the paragraph just before this, is putting a person in such an awkward and potentially dangerous situation in any way compassionate, and thus merit some compassion in return?  Aside from this though, I did say at the beginning of this long essay that I would get to the issue of sympathy and compassion and how that is different from forgiveness.  Actually I have been talking around that topic for the last few paragraphs, but never directly to the issue.  Those alternate notions of forgiveness I was picking apart also seem to meld forgiveness, compassion and sympathy into one all-purpose “right thing to do”.  The reality is these are all different things, and The Sunflower actually shows how each one of them is separate and, while Wiesenthal does not provide the former, he does provide both compassion and sympathy, on different occasions.  With the dying SS man, Karl, he doesn’t have much sympathy for the man – this is one of his tormentors after all.  Yet he most certainly shows ample compassion.  A fly was buzzing around the dying man’s blinded face, and Simon shoos it away.  Despite the emotional pain this is causing him, Simon still hears Karl out.  And it seems this alone was of benefit to the man, as the next day, when the nurse told him that solider had died, she presented Simon with Karl’s effects, as that was Karl’s wish.  Later, when meeting Karl’s mother, Simon shows sympathy in this instance.  He does feel and understand the genuine pain the woman was feeling and genuinely did not want to do or say anything that would cause her additional hurt.  Here there was compassion too, and one gets the impression that compassion is simply one of Wiesenthal’s traits – he was a very compassionate human being.  So to review, compassion is to treat people with kindness and gentility, and provide assistance, sympathy is to commiserate and to share in the feelings of another, but forgiveness is to actually absolve another of sin or to declare that no further atonement is necessary.  No preconditions are needed to be compassionate.  To be sympathetic, usually some sort of common ground or understanding is needed, but not much more than that.  But since forgiveness is more definite, and more official, there are many preconditions, and the SS officer meets very few, if any, of them.

So this turned out to be longer than many of the submissions to Wiesenthal’s symposium.  But some of the offerings there were quite long as well, and there was a lot to say.  I had it in my mind to write a post about the Jewish view of forgiveness almost since I started this blog more than three years ago.  And it has been two months since I promised part two (or as it turned out, parts 2 and 3) to follow up the book review.  I still don’t know if I’m fully happy with it, but I am glad to have finally written it and to have it posted.  Scottie and Randy, I appreciated your comments on part one and hope you will be able to get through this long piece as well, as it does give my perspective on the issues both of you raised.  It seems now every time I post, I once again promise to post more, and then have another very long delay before the next post.  However I have more ideas now and hopefully more posts will be on the way.  And I got two out of this one so that’s a start!

On Forgiveness, Part 2

In the last post, I examined the dilemma posed by Simon Wiesenthal in The Sunflower and suggested that, in my (unsolicited) response, I would explore the Jewish idea of forgiveness, what it is, what it is not, and how it may differ from other conceptions of forgiveness.  I will start with the simpler, easier, answers before moving on the deeper stuff.  Also, my post will be split into two parts so it isn't so much to read all at once.

To answer Wiesenthal, first I respond to the direct question – what would I have done?  Like some others have stated in their published replies, I will not answer, because I have no answer.  That is part of what is so compelling about The Sunflower, the situation Simon is placed in is truly incredulous.  It is almost impossible to imagine oneself accurately in such an extreme situation.  To flesh this out a little more, I can’t answer because I truly have no idea of how I would be thinking if I had gone through what the Jews of the Holocaust went through.  I grew up in an entirely different environment, with little to no discrimination, much less brutality.  I do not know what it is like to be constantly expecting to die in some sudden violent manner.  What I do know is that, if I were face to face with someone who had tormented me and this person asked forgiveness, I would find it quite hard to be charitable.  But even this is not the situation at hand.  This is a person unknown to Wiesenthal but is merely a member of the same group of people who were systematically killing the Jews.  So perhaps I might be able to feel sympathy but, as I will explain shortly, that is not at all the same thing as granting forgiveness.

Moving on, I will briefly discuss the interaction with Karl’s mother.  Wiesenthal wonders if he was right to not tell her the truth about her son, to let her continue believing the lie that he was not a murderer.  I believe he was right in this.  She had lost her entire world, her family, her faith in her country.  To take away her last pleasant fiction would just be cruelty and perhaps more than she could bear.  There is one reasonable counter-argument to this though.  If we extend the principle further, and say in general we should let the “good” people continue believing in the supposed innocence of Nazis who committed atrocities, we are minimizing and excusing, perhaps even denying, what happened and are creating conditions where such evil can reoccur.  To me though, the mother’s situation is a special case.  It was too much too soon.  Also, she had tried to teach her son right from wrong and, from some of the things she said to Simon, one gets the impression she suspected he was not quite as innocent as she hoped.  Perhaps, if the meeting had happened many years later, or if her husband had not been killed too, maybe the circumstances would be different and it would have been the right thing to tell her the whole truth.  But at that time, sitting in the ruins of her bombed out home, with nothing but the memories of her family left – even her family was stolen from her –  and still coming to grips with the extent of the evil done by her country, the truth would not likely have done any good and could have done harm.

Now with the easy stuff out of the way, we move on to the deeper question.  Was Simon’s choice the correct one?  By that, I mean based only on abstract principles, taking what he had written to be the full complete and exact facts of the matter, was he morally correct in not granting forgiveness or would it have been appropriate to grant Karl’s wish?  All the commenters, even those who thought forgiveness should have been granted, take pains to point out this is in no way making a judgement on Simon’s character or questioning the appropriateness of the decision, especially given the circumstances involved.

Based on my view of Jewish traditions and assessment of the purported facts, Wiesenthal was right not to grant forgiveness.  In fact, it would have been incorrect for him to grant it.  It is for a reason mentioned even in the text of the story.  One of his friends back in the camp pointed out that these crimes were not committed against him, and Jewish tradition holds very clearly that one can only forgive sins committed against you.  You are only permitted to forgive in your own name, not in anyone else’s.  From this, the logical extension is quite obvious, and Jewish teachings confirm this:  murder is not a sin that can be forgiven, under any circumstances.  The reason is really quite simple:  the victimized party is deceased and is thus unavailable to hear, much less grant, a request for forgiveness.  As death is the definitive result of all murder, there are no circumstances where murder can be forgiven.  An interesting sidebar here is that Jewish teaching holds that there are in fact two – and only two – sins which are unforgiveable:  murder and lashon ha-ra, a term referring to the spreading of malicious gossip (other scholars have defined this sin as destroying someone’s reputation).  The reasoning why this second sin is unforgiveable is also another reason why murder cannot be forgiven.  That is because, just as one cannot raise the dead, damage done to a reputation cannot be undone.  Why this permanence is important we will see later.

But what about remorse?  Does it not count for something if a murderer is sincerely sorry for all the hurt he or she has caused, to everyone affected?  Yes of course it does, but it does not count for everything.  Without that remorse, forgiveness is never possible but, by itself, that is not enough.  Jewish traditions have a very well established process of forgiveness, called teshuva.  To start with, the approach to forgiveness depends on the sin.  There are two types:  sins against God and sins against people (traditionalists would say “against man”).  Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement.  It is the holiest day of the Jewish year, the day when Jews ask God for forgiveness of sins committed against Him.  But the thing about sin is quite often one action would be a sin both against a person and against religious law (i.e. God).  So in the weeks leading up to Yom Kippur, Jews are expected to atone for all the sins they committed against others, make amends and gain forgiveness, if possible.  Because it is said God does not forgive the sins against Him, until the sins against man have been made right.  With this in mind, even suggesting the SS officer beseech God for forgiveness might not be of much use, as no atonement has been made for the human sins.  And at any rate, this person is not Jewish, so any claim that he may be asking for a religious type of forgiveness is doubtful.  He was raised Catholic, so if that were his aim it would seem confessing to a priest would be more appropriate.

In any event, I’m really more interested in sins against people.  I’m not entirely sure I believe in God and, even if He (or She!) does exist, I believe that interpersonal relations have far more importance as far as morality is concerned.  We have to live with each other, so it is important we do so on the best of possible terms.  The process of teshuva here is well established.  The first step is admitting the commission of the sin to the injured party and expressing remorse.  But the most important part is still to come.  Teshuva means “to make right”.  This quite clearly means that the sin must not only be regretted, but concrete action must take place to correct matters.  If money was stolen, it must be repaid.  If one showed rudeness, one must now show kindness.  If there was an injury, assistance should be provided, as appropriate, in the healing process.  Some form of appropriate restitution is necessary.  Finally, the individual must find him or herself in the same situation and this time choose the correct course of action, and not repeat the same mistake. 

With those steps and requirements in mind, it is easy to see why the Nazi can not achieve forgiveness.  Since restitution, in the sense of undoing the damage, is critical, it is clear that this can never happen in the case of murder.  Try as one might, there is no repair of the damage done.  The only possible form of forgiveness conceivable in the case of murder is to seek forgiveness from the victim’s family and friends – not for the murder itself, but forgiveness for the emotional harm to loved ones this crime has caused.  This is nowhere close to a complete forgiveness but is a possible saving grace attainable by at least atoning for a collateral sin committed as a result of the other, unforgiveable one.  Another mark against the SS officer is that there is no way he could be tested in the final stage of teshuva, not repeating the action in similar circumstances.  As he is about to die, there will obviously not be the opportunity for this occasion.  Because it is never known whether a particular circumstance will ever arise again in one’s lifetime, this final step of teshuva is not necessarily essential to be forgiven, but it is necessary for complete atonement on the personal level.  Put another way, it is acceptable for an injured party to grant forgiveness without this final stage but the sinner would not be considered completely atoned until that final test is passed.  In the SS case, it may seem a non-issue, since this last stage is not essential to the request and there are many other reasons why it cannot be granted.  However, it points to another reason why this request for forgiveness is not appropriate.  Since the full process of forgiveness would require this evidence of changed behaviour, deathbed requests for forgiveness are thus highly dubious and not in my mind appropriate.  While as I just mentioned, it cannot be known whether the opportunity to test resolve will ever arise, if one asks forgiveness when one knows they are about to die, it is a certainty that the last condition will not be completed as it is abundantly clear there would be no time to do so.  It calls into question the sincerity of the remorse, since the sinner knows there is no way their change of heart will ever be put to the test.  And, as with the case we are examining, why was the request not made earlier?  The murders Karl confesses to were committed a year prior and there was no thought of remorse or forgiveness until he is about to die.  

There is still quite a lot more to this post, but I will end it here, since it is already quite a lot to digest.  But this time when I say the conclusion will follow shortly, I really mean it since the second part is already written.  Expect the post in a week from now or possibly sooner.

On Forgiveness Part 1

Towards the end of a long ago post about justice, I briefly touched on the concept of forgiveness.  This is a topic I have been meaning to address for some time, dating back to last year and, really, almost back to the beginning of the blog.  I never got around to it then, but I would like to do it now, as it is now the High Holidays and it seems like an opportune time.  This also serves as a review of the book The Sunflower by Simon Wiesenthal, as this book is centered around the nature and limits of forgiveness.  I believe that most people misunderstand what forgiveness actually is and I will attempt to address the issue.  This post will be written in two parts:  the first is the book review, which will lead into my thoughts on forgiveness in the second part.

Saturday September 14 is the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur, considered by religious Jews the holiest day of the year.  It is described in English as “the Day of Atonement” where Jews ask God for forgiveness for their transgressions in spiritual matters.  But how does this relate to asking forgiveness from other people for transgressions against them?  And how does one respond when someone who harmed you (or someone else – an important distinction) asks you for forgiveness?  And do Jewish and Christian (and other religious and/or secular) views of forgiveness differ?

This is the central theme of The Sunflower by Simon Wiesenthal.  The book (really a non-fiction novella followed by a series of responsa) provides a variety of views and attempts to answer the essential question Wiesenthal poses in the story.  This was originally written in the 1970’s and refers to events in the 1940’s but the themes remain relevant to this day.  A revised edition with new responses was published in the 1990’s.  As I mentioned in that earlier post, Simon Wiesenthal survived the Holocaust and devoted his life afterwards to locating escaped Nazis and bringing them to justice.  In The Sunflower, Wiesenthal recalls an incident while in a Concentration Camp in 1943 when he was assigned to be part of a work detail for a few days cleaning a German army hospital.  In that hospital there was a Nazi soldier near death from his battle wounds.  Apparently he was aware that Jewish prisoners were at the hospital that day and requested to speak to one of the Jews in private, it just so happened that Wiesenthal was the one chosen.  The soldier was obviously severely wounded and had also been blinded.  He was also well aware that death would come soon.  The soldier proceeded to describe an incident a year ago when he participated in the slaughter of a Jewish family by burning the house and shooting anyone trying to get out.  He also vividly described the child, as that image continued to haunt him.  And why was he telling all this to a Jew who was already well aware of these brutal methods and had already suffered greatly and would soon suffer even more or be dead himself?  Well, the soldier new he was about to die and now his conscience had finally re-emerged – or perhaps he was concerned that he would not be heaven bound as a result of this great sin.  In any event he claimed to feel great remorse for what he had done and asked Wiesenthal – as a member of the Jewish people – to forgive the Nazi for this sin.  Wiesenthal was shocked and somewhat disgusted at that request.  At the time, Wiesenthal said nothing and he returned to his work detail and managed to survive the Holocaust.  But this incident continued to bother him.  He wondered if he had done the right thing.  The man seemed to be genuine in his remorse – so shouldn’t he have forgiven him?  After the war, he was able to locate the dead soldier’s mother and went to visit her.  He saw that this man apparently had a moral and religious upbringing and, as far as his mother knew, her son had been involved only in the war and had nothing to do with atrocities.  Wiesenthal ended up not telling her what the soldier told him, leaving her in the dark.  This caused him more psychological disturbance.  Was this the right thing to do?  Was it right to allow her to continue to believe her son was not involved in genocide?  Was this the humane choice or is this dishonesty?  But the final question he poses to the reader is:  should he have forgiven the man?   And what would the reader have done in that situation?

As many of the respondents to the symposium that follows were writers, several stated they would have been pleased to offer a literary criticism of the book, but what he had asked was actually far more difficult.  Wiesenthal’s challenge puts the reader in the very difficult place to imagine oneself in a situation so horrible as to seem unfathomable to many (and for survivors to relive the most horrifying and traumatic time of their lives) and then respond to a request that seems unfathomable.  On top of that they are to critique the actions of someone who found himself in that singular situation.  Quite the task, but the revised and expanded edition contains 53 responses, of which only a selection of the first edition responses are included.  There are Jews, Catholics, Buddhists, and secular commentators.  Many are academics, in theology or secular disciplines such as the Humanities, others are authors.  Others are religious leaders:  rabbis, priests, and even the Dalai Lama.  Most of the Christian commentators are Catholic, in large part because this was first published around the time of the Second Vatican Council, which had a focus on Christian-Jewish relations, and also because Karl, the SS officer in the story, was raised a Catholic so his request for forgiveness came from the viewpoint of a Catholic.  A great many agree Wiesenthal’s decision was the correct one, though sometimes for different reasons, while others believe forgiveness should have been granted.  Others seem to skirt this issue, by evasion or explicit refusal to answer, and instead address another aspect of that central theme.  A very notable contribution that must be mentioned was written by Albert Speer.  Speer was a high-ranking Nazi and a minister in Hitler’s government.  At the Nuremburg Trials in 1946 he was one of the very few to plead guilty and perhaps the only one to publicly acknowledge responsibility for the crimes of the Third Reich.  He was sentenced to 20 years in prison and, after serving that term and after reading the Sunflower, began a correspondence with Wiesenthal, eventually resulting in a lengthy face-to-face meeting.  In part, his response is a thank you for that meeting, praising Wiesenthal’s remarkable compassion, both towards Karl and later to Speer.  As for forgiveness, he expects none, from Wiesenthal or even from himself.  He acknowledges these crimes are unforgiveable; the best he can advocate is sincere repentance with the hope of receiving understanding and compassion, with no expectation or request of forgiveness.

There are so many big questions raised in this work and are open for commentary.  One of the biggest issues raised is whether Wiesenthal has any right to forgive, as the crime confessed was done to someone else, now dead, and not him.  Can one forgive on behalf of others?  Is forgiveness based on a deathbed confession too easy, a form of “cheap grace”?  And is Karl truly reformed and sincere, and thus potentially deserving of forgiveness, or do his actions still show an unchanged callousness right to the end?  Finally, what of the mother?  Was Simon right to withhold the truth of her son’s activities?  Was this compassion, as most agree, or was it irresponsible?  Stepping away from the incident itself, what, if any, are the limits to forgiveness?  Is there such a thing as collective guilt (such as the guilt of the German nation for Nazi crimes)?  And if so, can this collective guilt ever be forgiven?  Is there a difference between forgiving and forgetting, and can one exist without – or with – the other?  So many different questions and so many views on each question.  It is a general pattern that Jewish respondents tend to say he shouldn’t forgive while more Christians say he should.  Although my views will come next time, I want to note here that this pattern appears have much more to do with different approaches to and definitions of forgiveness between the two religions than from personal or emotional responses.  I will attempt to address a few of these questions, based on how interesting the answers are and how much time and space I want to devote to this.

                                                                                                                         

The Sunflower is a rather intense and thought-provoking read.  To begin with, reading a first-hand account of a concentration camp experience can be difficult and emotional, especially when the writer is as gifted with words and mental imagery as Wiesenthal, since he can actually put you in that awful place.  The book also serves as a partial and limited biography of the author’s life (he wrote a more complete account of his life and work in a later memoir) which gives some context to his decision to bring Nazi war criminals to justice (not to get revenge, as I mentioned in that earlier post).  Next comes his challenge to the reader – what would you have done?  Finally, though his story is now finished, the book is nowhere near its end.  Such a diverse collection of commenters are featured it makes for very interesting reading.  It is virtually certain a reader will strongly disagree with at least some of the opinions expressed, while most likely there will be others that fit perfectly with your views.  Naturally, the cover gives top billing to the more famous, household names that are featured, such as the Dalai Lama and Bishop Desmond Tutu.  However these replies are among the shortest and least involved essays, especially when there are far more detailed offerings from others that truly address the core of Wiesenthal’s question.  There is even another entry that gives a reply from the Buddhist perspective that is more detailed and nuanced than that of the Dalai Lama.

Again, my discussion on forgiveness will come in the next post, but my very short response right now, is that from my view of forgiveness, Wiesenthal was completely correct in his actions, both regarding what he did and did not do.  It is entirely consistent with an appropriate approach to forgiveness and being a compassionate person, despite the unimaginable circumstances.  More details to follow.

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A postscript.  In a future post you will see something most interesting in this blog.  It occupied a fair amount of my non-work time this summer and is one reason for lack of posting.  I wrote an article based on the report of my final research project at school and will be published very shortly in an industry magazine.  After waiting a certain required time after publication, I will be able to share it here with you.  So stay tuned.

My Passover Story

While I don’t necessarily observe all the Jewish holidays, Passover (or Pesach) is one that is always important to me and I try to always celebrate it with my family (yes I realize that Passover ended over a week ago, but now is when my post was finished, so here it is).  Even when I was living away from home I would usually try to get home for at least the Passover Seder, which is on the first night (well technically there are two but we’ll get back to that).  We are not an especially traditional family and, though we have altered some of the ritual practices to find a tradition that works for us, we do keep more of the traditions here than at other times.

Passover celebrates the freedom of the ancient Israelites (the forerunners to present day Jews) from slavery in Egypt.  It also serves as a holiday to welcome the arrival of spring and, in ancient times, even served as the start of the Jewish Year (though now the accepted New Year is Rosh Hashanah which occurs in the fall).  While the exact timing will always vary, Passover is often close in time to Easter, and this is no coincidence.  It is generally accepted by biblical scholars that the “last supper” of Jesus and his disciples was actually the Passover Seder.

The Passover Seder itself is a ceremonial meal replete with symbols representing the story of Passover and the purpose of its existence is to tell the story of Passover to the next generation.  Most often, we read from the Haggadah, a book that sets out the specific order in which things are done and which prayers are said at what time.  Now my dad is definitely not into prayers so, although we used a traditional text for some time in my early years, we switched to something more progressive many years ago.  From about the age of 10 until my Bar Mitzvah I received my Jewish education with a Toronto-based organization that billed itself a Secular Jewish Association.  What this essentially meant, is that while they kept a Jewish identity and some traditions, there was pretty much no discussion of God and almost no purely religious aspect.  It was with this group that I had my Bar Mitzvah which would really be more accurately described as a school graduation ceremony. First it was a group event.   No Torah readings, no prayers but plenty about what we have learned about Judaism and being Jewish.  I must say that I really needed that school at that point in my life, as I really didn’t understand what it meant to be Jewish; all I really comprehended was that I was not Christian like everyone else at school (hmm, knowing I’m different but not knowing how - it seems this pattern keeps coming up through my life!!)  But this experience taught me to have pride in my background and allowed me to define myself not by what I’m not, but by what I am (again, great practice for coming out - it just took me a really long time to see it).

So where were we?  Oh, that’s right, Passover.  Before I got off on that tangent, I was going to explain that when we joined that organization, they had produced their own Haggadah and the content seemed to reflect our values very well and that is the version we use to this day.  The point I’m trying to make by telling you this is that sometimes we can get bogged down by the old traditions that we do just because we are supposed to do them and this can obscure the intended objective of that tradition.  I have a guess that this is one reason I am meeting so many people who still claim to have a spiritual side but have pretty much abandoned established religion.  I think that learning about Jewish traditions and history has taught me that letting go of that identity has imperiled the survival of the Jewish people so, even if I do not accept some tenets of the faith or some of the ritual practices, I am and will always be Jewish.  I might suggest that an alternative to just declaring oneself non-religious might be to take a closer look at your faith and do some cherry-picking; making your own traditions by keeping what works and either eliminating what doesn’t or changing it so that it does.  In fact, a family member shared something recently from a rabbi that advocates doing exactly that, albeit with a starting viewpoint quite a bit different than my own.  I will provide the link here though you should be warned that those of you who do not know much about Judaism and all the traditions associated with Passover will likely be lost.  There are even some things in there that I don’t understand.  But the basic point he is making is that we should be examining the Seder traditions and, for it to be meaningful, we cannot get stuck in an endlessly repeating pattern but instead we should be fulfilling the goal of retelling the story of the Exodus from Egypt by making sure we do not turn it into a bore or a meaningless rite, but make it a time for learning and truly examining the lessons of not just this holiday, but all our religious practices.  To read the article click here

It seems this post just does NOT want to be about the Seder itself.  Oh, well I bet this is more interesting anyway.  Still, I wanted to share a bit about the Seder itself because Passover is about telling the story and explaining the meaning of everything that is done.  Very briefly, it is the story of the Book of Exodus: the Israelites were enslaved by Egypt in the days of the Pharaoh and it came to be that Pharaoh wanted to keep this slave population from growing.  Then Moses received a command from God to lead his people and demand their freedom from Pharaoh (this part is not really mentioned in our Haggadah, but reference is only made to the people being oppressed and demanding release).  The story goes that, when Pharaoh refused, 10 plagues beset the Egyptians and Pharaoh relented.  All the Israelites left Egypt in a hurry.  But then Pharaoh reconsidered and pursued the escaping Hebrews to the Sea of Reeds (or possibly the Red Sea - there is a certain vagary in the translation and in reconciling with a physical location).  Then, miraculously, the waters parted allowing the Israelites to cross then, while the Egyptians were crossing, the waters came back drowning the pursuers. 

Because they departed in a hurry, the story is that they had no time to wait for their bread to rise before baking it to have food for the journey, which is why we do not eat any leavened products (especially bread) throughout Passover, eating matzah instead.  There is also no baking or cooking with flour or most other grains, and no grain-based alcohol.  For some sections of the Jewish community, rice and legumes are also proscribed.  Despite these difficulties I actually enjoy baking on Passover, particularly because of those very interesting challenges.  But, yes you can bake cake on Passover.  Since no leavening agents are permitted, sponge cake is the method of choice, as the only leavening present in such a cake is beaten egg white.  As flour cannot be used, the substitute is a blend of matzah cake meal (which is matzah ground to meal, then ground further and sifted to make a very fine powder) and potato starch.  Ground nuts are also very commonly used, most often walnuts or almonds.

The matzah is one of three elements of the Seder that are considered especially important to be explained, the others being the pesach and the maror.  Pesach, which is also one of the names of the holiday, refers to the lamb that was sacrificed on the eve of the final plague on the Egyptians.  The Angel of Death was to come and kill all the first born sons of Egypt and the Israelites would sacrifice a lamb and put its blood on the doors of their homes as a sign for the plague to pass over their homes (hence the other name).  In the days of the Great Temple in Jerusalem, animal offerings were made at the temple, and a lamb was offered on Passover.   Finally the maror is bitter herbs, the eating of something bitter at the Seder.  The obvious symbolism is to remember that the lives of the slaves were bitter so we must remember that by tasting the bitterness ourselves.  Different families use different items to represent bitterness, but the most common these days is probably horseradish.  Now the interesting thing is that I don’t consider horseradish to be particularly bitter.  It certainly is very pungent and sharp and it can be painful to eat but the bitterness is not at the forefront.  However, what my family has done (this does go back to previous generations) is to take a whole root and soak it in water at room temperature for at least a couple weeks before Passover, until it begins to sprout.  The germination and growing of sprouts does in fact make the horseradish more distinctly bitter and maybe a little stronger too.  Other possibilities for maror include endive, radicchio or a similar bitter lettuce.  A long time ago, I heard at some point some Jewish families would use romaine as their bitter herb.  Now who really considers romaine lettuce bitter?  I think this was part of a trend to not have anything eaten at the Seder to be the slightest bit unpleasant to eat, particularly for the kids.  But the most important part of Passover is teaching the kids and I think it is a worthwhile lesson that the lives of the Hebrew slaves were bitter and quite unpleasant.  The maror should not be a joy to eat - it is supposed to be reminiscent of the bitterness of slavery.

There are other symbols on the Seder plate too.  Haroset is a mildly sweet paste made of apples, nuts, wine and a bit of sugar and cinnamon (there are other variations too) that represents the mortar used by the Israelites to build monuments for Pharaoh.  It is eaten together with matzah and maror.  There is the z’roah, a roasted shank bone, ideally of lamb, that represents the pesach sacrifice.  Baytzah, an egg, represents new life and rebirth of springtime.  Karpas is a green herb that represents springtime and the new growth.  The Karpas is dipped in salt water when eaten, the water representing tears cried by the slaves.

The Seder Plate - Clockwise from top:  Karpas, Baytzah, Maror, Z'roah, Haroset

There are so many more details regarding the Seder, from the four cups of wine, to the cup for the prophet Elijah, to the afikoman, to the story of the four sons and so much more, some of which varies by family or regional origin.  But for our family, we complete the Seder by following along in the Haggadah, which includes various stories, quotations and songs, some drawing parallels to modern day issues as well.  More traditional Haggadot (that is the plural of Haggadah) would have more of a focus on prayers.  Then we eat boiled eggs also with the salt water.  Next comes chicken soup.  This is quite commonly served with matzah balls, but mostly we just have the soup with crumbled bits of matzah.  Then comes the main course.  Some of the most frequent meals we have are either roast chicken or a pot roast brisket (of course I have recipes now on this blog for either one)


As you can see, I could go on and on for pages and pages about what Passover and the Seder are about and what lessons can be learned.  But since this is getting quite long, and I think I mentioned the most important things, I will simply finish by saying that perhaps the ultimate lesson is to not take our freedom for granted but rather to celebrate our freedom and to work towards a day when everyone can be free.

Oh, wait a minute!  It seems I said I’d come back to the part about there being two Seders.  Yes, tradition does dictate that a Seder be held on each of the first two nights of Pesach.  Now this makes sense if you have a large extended family living reasonably close by so one Seder would be at one house and the second at another house, quite likely with different guests (this is definitely a holiday where hospitality and inviting guests is encouraged).  That does not really apply to our family and doing the same Seder with only the three of us on consecutive days really makes no sense.  So we only have the one.

Justice Not Vengeance

You may have noticed I do not link to very many sites on my sidebar. When I began blogging there was a lot of concern about sites being nuked for “questionable content” or even linking to such sites. Even though I knew none of my material would stray into that problem area, I worried that linking to certain sites might attract problems. Therefore I decided that, if I was going to put a link in my sidebar I had to be 100% comfortable with that site’s content and could feel comfortable recommending it to anyone who happens to read my blog. With that in mind, I am introducing two new links today. First is something new for me. While I am affiliated with two food websites that have blog listings, I have not linked to any food blogs. Recently though, I have found one that is well-written, diverse and even has something of an intellectual side to it. If you like what I write about food, pay a visit to Down Home Foodie, I think you will like her writing too. The other site I have been familiar with for a while, and I think some of my regular readers know it too. This site has an adult content warning in front of it, but I can assure you the site is clean. You may see a nude picture once in a great while but is not at all a porn site and there is nothing I would consider at all offensive. Because this is registered as an “adult” site, and also because at one time I was unsure about some of his previous content, I have been reluctant to link to Randy’s blog in the past but lately I am getting to really like this blog - he is one of my favourites. Like me, he seems to have a background in psychology/behaviour or something in that line, so we have been having some interesting discussions as of late. He is a regular at Scottie’s Toy Box and does visit here on occasion. Visit Randy’s blog at Or Words To That Effect...


Lately, I have noticed in this blog community there is much focus on the justice system and what it is doing or not doing. I have also waded into this discussion, as I find it quite interesting. I believe that part of the difficulty is that “justice” can mean different things to different people, and while it is supposed to officially be free from emotional response, most peoples’ concept of justice is heavily based on emotions.

And there lies the problem. I believe the motivation for many people who “seek justice” are not really after justice but revenge. Now revenge encompasses more than what you probably consider it to be, like vigilantism and multi-generation family grudges that usually involve a great deal of bloodshed. Revenge in a more mundane form is actually a desire to have the perpetrator of a crime suffer as much as the victim, because of the anger and/or hurt that the victim feels. Here is where vengeance get entangled with the concept of justice. Obviously as a society we consider it unacceptable that someone who has committed a crime should be able to avoid facing any consequences for their actions. It would also be heartless to disregard the suffering or damages inflicted on the victim(s) of such actions.

The desire for vengeance is deeply ingrained in us. As a social species, we rely on a set of communal laws to ensure we can continue to thrive as a collective. Therefore, if someone violates these laws, it threatens everyone and undermines confidence in the ability of one’s society to function. That is why fear and anger often rule and there is a desire for harsh punishments that inflict suffering. Over time, most societies try to implement a fair and effective justice system to ensure that the consequences meted out are appropriate. One of the earlier forms of justice is the biblical standard of “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life”. The purpose was to set a punishment that was equal to the offense. Today this standard, especially when interpreted literally, is seen as barbaric and, in the New Testament, Christian tradition moves beyond his standard, in keeping with Christ’s teachings of love and forgiveness. It should be noted though that “an eye for an eye” was never considered by Jewish scholars to be a literal requirement. There are a couple reasons for this. First, this rule was actually a limitation as other contemporary nations punished minor offenses with disfigurement or death and the Israelites determined that the punishment can never be more severe than the crime. Second, due to the implications of this limitation, it is not actually commensurate to literally take out someone’s eye or knock out one’s teeth as punishment for doing these things. If you did these things, the accused might suffer additional harm as a result, rendering the punishment excessive. So instead, the practice was to require the offender to pay the monetary value of an eye, a tooth, etc. The exception was “a life for a life” since murder is a crime that can never be undone and it is completely impossible to place a value on a human life, the sages determined that the literal penalty of death is still appropriate. After all, there is no way in this case that the penalty can be exceeded as death is terminal. It should also be noted though, the Jewish high court in the days of the temple were extremely reluctant to impose any death penalties. Because such a penalty is irreversible, they put so many constraints and such a high burden of proof it was almost impossible have a case strong enough to merit the death penalty and a lesser punishment was used instead. Still, starting from the base principle of an eye for an eye still seems like unthinking retribution, albeit somewhat tempered, which is probably why in the New Testament, different standards were espoused.

So if we do not want our justice system to be based on seeking revenge, then what is the purpose? The best I can tell, the ideals of justice would entail that any wrong or illegal behaviour is met with appropriate consequences, the victims are protected, and an opportunity is provided for rehabilitation. The efficacy of the court systems of providing this ideal is not really my focus here as I am more concerned with personal ethics. Although justice is primarily considered a legal construct, we generally believe that “justice must be done” even in matters of ethical or moral violations that do not violate a governmental law. In any event, in discussions of ethics, civil laws are not constructed based on ideals but on consensus, so you take what you can get.

In my teens, one person whose life and writings greatly influenced me was Simon Wiesenthal, a man who was commonly known as a “Nazi Hunter”. He was a survivor of the Holocaust and the concentration camps and after liberation he dedicated his life to seeking out and putting escaped Nazis on trial for their crimes. With the passage of time, more people criticized him for doing this, as they felt that there was no good to be served in prosecuting old men decades after the crimes and surmising that Wiesenthal’s motivation for this continuing quest was revenge for what was done to him, his family, and his fellow Jews. He took great pains to explain how this was not at all the case, especially in his memoir published in the late 1980's, entitled Justice Not Vengeance. After the camps were liberated and Simon had recovered most of his physical strength, he went to work helping the allied tribunals set up to try Nazi war criminals. Over the next few years, he found that many former Nazis, who had committed some horrific offenses were living quite comfortably in many other countries, as close as Switzerland and some even seemed proud of what they had done. Many other survivors he talked to considered the only appropriate punishment to kill them - in other words getting revenge. This seemed wrong to Wiesenthal, like one was sinking to their level and being just as inhuman as their tormentors. By contrast, the Nuremberg trials were fair and sober proceedings, allowing those accused to defend themselves, and making judgements based on the evidence, even acquitting a few. To Simon, this was proper justice: outside judges who were not biased by being directly victimized judged the accused’s guilt and the severity of the crimes and set an appropriate punishment. Meanwhile, the process itself would ensure that the people do not forget about what happened and prevent such a tragedy from happening again. As for those who say it does not serve justice to prosecute men in their 80's and 90's in frail health whose crimes took place decades ago? To me, letting this go sends the message that there are no consequences for the crimes, as long as you hide away or lie about your past for long enough.

Contrast this to the current mess that goes by the name of the U.S. Justice System. I was particularly disturbed by the media circus that surrounded the recent Casey Anthony trial. Now it seems pretty clear that Ms. Anthony is no model citizen and certainly, as confirmed pathological liar, should not be trusted in any way, shape or form. And given the available evidence I would say that it is quite possible she did in fact kill her child. But considering the charges laid, the evidence presented, and the principle of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt, not guilty seemed to be the only responsible verdict. Of course this infuriated everyone. I won’t even get into the appalling behaviour of the so-called “experts” on TV, and especially Nancy Grace, except to say that she actually is a lawyer, and as such ought to maintain some professional standards. But what really caught my attention was the insistence that she ought to be punished, despite the lack of proof, because the kid is dead. While they present this as justice, this is what I would consider vengeance. They start with the fact that a little girl is dead, quite likely murdered (but again, not proven). Therefore someone has to “pay” for this crime. But here the judgement of guilt has been made in the court of public opinion rather than law. With law you actually have to prove the case and the accused is presumed innocent until proven guilty. With public opinion it is the reverse except without the “until proven” part. And how does the public opinion form? Well, from the media reports, just about always sensationalist. This is why I can’t watch HLN for more than a few seconds without feeling like puking.

Another related concept that is quite interesting is perhaps more sensitive. We have just past the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 terror attacks this past weekend. How do you see justice done here? For one thing, all the actual hijackers died while carrying out their evil. And can any of the other actions taken since be considered to be even some measure of justice? What if, for instance, the U.S. had been able to capture Bin Laden alive and try him, as was done with many top Nazis such as Hermann Goring, Rudolf Hess, and eventually, Adolf Eichmann? And currently, former Yugoslav dictator Slobodan Milosevic is on trial for crimes against humanity for his role in the massacres in Bosnia. First of all, a fair trial for such a hated individual on U.S. soil and abiding by the rules of US law would be highly unlikely. But even if that were to happen by some miracle or if he could have been prosecuted at the International Criminal Court like Milosevic, would it even then be possible for justice to proceed? When other suspected Al-Qaeda members have gone on trial, they have turned it into a spectacle to continue their hatred and vitriol. Given the messages Bin Laden released in the past, such a scenario would be likely. So you would have the American people on one side howling for blood, and Bin Laden on the other issuing a rallying cry to all the other terrorists. The pursuit for justice dissolves into a tangled mess with no good outcomes. And the way it actually did end, there is certainly no justice but only a small element of revenge. But perhaps in such cases you can’t really do any better.

I think what we ought to strive for is not perfection, but to do the best we can, while remaining aware of our own natures, whether in policy or our personal lives. When it comes to the justice system, it is much more difficult as we have to weigh the priorities of all a country’s citizens, some of whom have no interest in the ideals of justice. Also, since our written laws must stand up in all circumstances and be fair to everyone, there is a certain lack of flexibility built into the system. But when we have been personally victimized, it might be helpful to remember that there is a natural tendency to seek revenge, but this urge is not good for society as a whole. Take a step back and think about what rules/laws were violated and what a fair and appropriate penalty would be. Note that I am not discussing forgiveness here. Forgiveness is something that comes later and is different in nature. It is also frequently misunderstood and I will discuss my thoughts on it in an upcoming post. That post will come together with a review of a book written by Simon Wiesenthal that poses some fascinating and difficult questions.

And one last thing before I close. A Happy 16th Birthday wish goes out to a special online friend. Thanks Amar, for being such a great inspiration and example to all.

Being Gay and Jewish - Revisited

Some months ago I wrote about the conflicts present in being both gay and Jewish, especially for those who are Orthodox Jews. I wrote about a statement of principles adopted by a group of Orthodox rabbis that expressed understanding love, and acceptance - to a point - of gay people within the Jewish community. For those of you who haven’t read that post yet, it is from August 19. Since then, I have read a book and seen a movie on this subject which show different side of this issue, which aren’t quite so encouraging.

The movie was a documentary entitled “Trembling before G-d”. The reference to G-d is because the Orthodox adhere to the law that the name of god cannot be uttered. The Hebrew notation referring directly to God in the Torah is essentially unpronounceable, and when the passages are recited, substitute words are used. This concept, when transferred to English, leads to the use of “G-d”. The movie recounts the story of Gay Orthodox Jews trying to maintain their faith while still accepting themselves as Gay and living a normal life. Many of the religious authorities spoken to in the documentary, while they often expressed sympathy, would not accept that living as a gay person could be anything other than a sin and a violation of Jewish Law (Halakha). One rabbi, who cared and wanted the best for one of his congregants, still advocated change therapies. He had suggested this many years ago and now, when the congregant talked to the rabbi years later after no result from these “therapies” the rabbi could only suggest trying again, or celibacy. Apparently accepting his orientation as a part of who he is was not an option. This is a very different attitude from the statement of principles, but then the movie was made a few years ago, and the statement of principles was put out in 2010. This movie did win some awards when it was originally released and got a lot of attention, and may have even spurred the religious community to get together and begin working on a more acceptable state of affairs, which led to the statement of principles.

I wrote a brief note in my blog when I began reading the book but was waiting to finish the book before I share my thoughts about it. Now I am ready to give my review of this incredible work.
Mourning and Celebration: Jewish, Orthodox and Gay Past & Present by K. David Brody tells the story of Yankl Bradawka, a character conjured by the narrator/author, a gay Jewish man living in Montreal in present day. Yankl lives in 19th Century Poland in a shtetl, a small village generally occupied by the Jewish community. Yankl is a Hasidic Jew, a member of the orthodox community, as is everyone else in his village. The difference is that Yankl is gay. He desires men and has no attraction to women. The book chronicles his search for a way to fulfill his needs while trying to avoid discovery of his inclinations, which no one in his era can acknowledge as anything but unimaginably sinful and abhorrent.

It is difficult to write about the book without having the review turn into a spoiler, as the twists and turns begin early and drive the plot turns later in the book. One thing this book does very well is that it highlights the conflict that still exists today between biblical and religious rules and being who you are. Yankl is a religious scholar and thus is well aware that his religion condemns what he desires. He sees his condition as a curse and prays to God to be able to love women and live like everyone else. But he has also come to realize that when he is with a man, he feels complete and in love and questions how that can be sinful. Of course living in his era and community, it is next to impossible for him to fulfill his needs and he seems destined to a sad and lonely life. He also faces an arranged marriage, something he dreads, and more so when he realizes that he likes his intended bride as a friend but is revolted at the prospect of a romantic engagement.

I don’t recall having as emotional a reaction to any other book I have read than I had to this book. There were a few times when I cried reading this, and many more times when I almost broke down. The first half of the novel was particularly powerful for me, as in those sections I recognized many of the feelings that Yankl was experiencing and have felt those feelings of different and abnormal. Just as the author invented Yankl to place himself in his own family a century ago, I could imagine myself there as well, as some of my grandparents were born in the shtetl maybe a generation or two after the time period of the novel. My coming out experience was very positive because the people I care most about are accepting and understanding. Now I realize how difficult it might have been if I was born in another time. I was also drawn to the character of Yankl’s mother. Here we see a woman who in modern times, would almost certainly have been accepting and supportive. She truly loves her son, and has suspected for some time that something is “wrong”. The times and her worldview simply cannot allow her to conceive that two men could possibly have love for each other and that there are other valid relationships apart from heterosexual ones. But even though she does not understand, her love for her son remains. The author is very skilful in remaining true to the attitudes people would have had at the time but, through several characters, plants the seed of our modern sensibility. The facts they are presented with seem to contradict the established wisdom and at times some of the characters begin to wonder if they might be wrong. They are only passing thoughts, but we can see how we started to get where we are today. Another creative aspect is that, through the people Yankl meets, we are introduced to many faces of modern gay life. We see bisexuality, exploitation, true love, casual physical relationships, despair and suicide and even, very rare at the time, a straight man who is a true friend and not judgmental.

I would highly recommend this book even for those who are not Jewish or gay. Many Yiddish terms are used, as that was the language of the shtetl and a few Yiddish terms are still a part of modern Jewish parlance. However when he uses Yiddish terms or talks about Jewish rituals and practices, he explains them in such a way that there should be no difficulty for a non-Jew to understand. There is also a glossary of terms and the end of the book if something is still not clear. Even though some of the situations described apply more to Jews, most of the experiences would be the same for Christians or anyone else living at that time.

For more information, reviews or to buy the book, visit the author’s website at http://www.MourningAndCelebration.com

I suppose the true lesson of the book is that, while it has only recently been possible to be openly gay, we need to understand that homosexuality did not begin in the 20th century. There have always been gay people, who had to find some way to live their lives as best they could. One way Jews may have had a more difficult time is that, especially in medieval times, Christians had an option that Jews did not: the convent or monastery. While celibacy is certainly not ideal, becoming a priest, monk or nun was at least a way where they could live without being pressured into marrying someone they could not satisfy. It was also considered a noble calling. Jews did not have a similar option. Religious leaders, such as rabbis were expected to marry and have a large family. Celibacy has never had a place in Jewish society, which means there was no escape for anyone with no sexual desire for women.

Despite the history of intolerance, and the reluctance even in modern times of the orthodox Jewish community to be supportive of homosexuality, times are changing and tolerance is building. The author of the book is an Orthodox Jew and is active in his Orthodox congregation. His rabbi supports him fully. He wrote an endorsement that appears at the beginning of the book and the book is sold at the synagogue. And as I have mentioned at other times, other branches of Judaism tend to be more tolerant and gay-friendly.

The Anne Frank Tree

Before I get on to my post, I would like to add a further comment related to my last post. This week a Rutgers university student, 18-year old Tyler Clementi, committed suicide after some twisted individuals secretly taped him having gay sex and posted the video online. This is not an isolated incident. Just this month, at least four teens have ended their lives because they were being bullied or otherwise harassed about being gay. There have been several other incidents earlier in the year. I feel a little conflicted about even mentioning this because it is well known that media reports of suicides often lead to spikes in the suicide rate. Imitative behaviour and such. In this case, however I believe it is more important to tell the story so we can get the message out that bullying hurts and sexual harassment is NEVER acceptable. Let us remember Tyler Clementi and the other young people who were driven over the edge by cruelty. And I’ll say again what I said last time. Things WILL get better so PLEASE don’t give up. If you suspect someone you know is contemplating suicide, a site that can be a help is The Trevor Project. They also have a toll-free hotline (only available in U.S.).

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This week there was an important event in Jewish history that took place in Montreal. On Monday afternoon, a chestnut sapling was planted near the Jewish Community Centre and Holocaust Memorial Museum. The significance of this little sapling is that it was grown from a chestnut from the Anne Frank Tree.

For those who do not know, Anne Frank was a teenage girl (originally from Germany) who was forced into hiding from the Nazis with her family in an attic in Amsterdam, the Netherlands for two years, until they were discovered and sent to a concentration camp, where she died. Years later her father Otto, the only one of the family to survive, found her diary and published it. Since then it has become famous around the world, translated into myriad languages, and made the Holocaust very real for people who would not otherwise have had any understanding of it.

In her diary, Anne makes mention multiple times of a large chestnut tree that grew in the yard behind the workshop, above which she and her family were hiding. It was one of the few visions of the outside world to which she had access during this time. She was able to take comfort in its beauty and majesty. In the decades following the war, the tree has remained as Anne’s attic hiding place was transformed into a museum, the Anne Frank House. At over 150 years old, the tree was thought to be one of the oldest in Amsterdam. A couple years ago, it was discovered that the tree was dying, consumed by fungus and parasites. The tree was originally going to be cut down, but protests succeeded in saving the tree for the time being. A steel support structure was built to keep the tree standing. Unfortunately, last month a strong wind storm finally toppled the old tree. As it was known the tree was dying, over the past two years, many saplings have been grown from the tree’s chestnuts, to be planted in many locations around the world. Many were planted in Amsterdam and other places in Europe, and one was planted on the White House lawn in the US. This sapling recently planted in Montreal is the only one in Canada. Montreal was chosen because of the sizeable population of Holocaust survivors and of the Jewish community in general.

I have already been to visit the tree. I could not get as close as I would have liked, as the museum and the community centre in which it is housed have very limited hours this week, due to the holiday of Sukkot. Therefore I could only see the tree at a distance through a gate. I was still able to get a couple decent pictures which I am sharing with you here.



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In my last post I also mentioned Canada’s charter of rights and freedoms. I have since learned that the United Kingdom yesterday enacted the Equality Act, which forbids discrimination based on age, gender, race, religion and sexual orientation, among other things. Good for them and it’s about time. Read the story at It's Getting Better.

Shana Tovah!

Today is Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year. I have been thinking a great deal about religious issues lately. The next ten days are the Days of Awe, the holiest days in the Jewish year, leading up to Yom Kippur, the most important day in the Jewish year. I have some special posts coming up (if I can get them the way I want them). Today’s post is about Rosh Hashana and will be somewhat shorter.

I’m sure many of you do not know what Rosh Hashana is about. In some ways, it is similar to any other New Year observance: we make resolutions as to how we will conduct ourselves in the year to come and review what we have done in the year just ended. And of course we celebrate as well, but perhaps not as raucously as on December 31. I have always understood Rosh Hashana as having many parallels to the beginning of the school year. This was an easy leap to make, since Rosh Hashana falls somewhere in the month of September, when most schools resume after summer break and everyone advances to the next grade (unless you failed - in that case, sorry). Jewish tradition on Rosh Hashana tells of the Book of Life, which can be thought of as the records kept by God. On Rosh Hashana our deeds of the past year are recorded and is a form of annual judgement. A frequently used greeting on Rosh Hashana is “L’shana tovah tikatevu” which translates to something like “may you be written down for a good year” (this may not be well translated - my source is not the best). So just as in each school year you are judged before you go on to the next grade, God is said to judge each of us before we continue on to the next year.

When I started school each September, I was encouraged to make the coming year one of improvement, where I would abandon the bad habits of the last year and adopt good new ones. Unfortunately, most times, these efforts were about as successful as most people’s New Year’s resolutions. The major difference between the new school year and Rosh Hashana, is that the “resolutions” are normally in relation to spiritual matters. However it is also common in the Jewish tradition to also reflect upon interpersonal relations, in addition to one’s relationship with God. This is because how we interact with other people is in fact an interaction with God (since we are created in God’s image). In the coming weeks, I will be expanding on the themes of how we interact with others in a couple different ways.

The greeting I mentioned earlier, while used frequently, is more commonly shortened to “shana tovah” which means simply “good year” and this is probably the most common Rosh Hashana greeting. Here’s to a sweet new year and Shana Tovah to all.

Being Gay and Jewish

I’m back from a long weekend in Washington D.C. and there is lots to write about. The upcoming posts many involve restaurant reviews, accounts of sights to see in the area, and maybe some other thoughts (but nothing too personal). But first, there is something that came up in the days before I left, that I wanted to share with you. Events over the weekend only served to underscore its importance. But this piece of news requires some background.

I have not mentioned it before in this space, but I am Jewish. I am not very religious or observant but I do identify with the Jewish religion and culture and I like to think I maintain Jewish values. I am very proud to be a Jew. In any religion, being gay can present many contradictions and difficulties. On the one hand, almost every religion is based on love and understanding for your fellow humankind. On the other hand, many religions have prohibitions against and condemn homosexuality. Judaism embodies both sides of this dilemma very well. There are a great many verses from the Torah and other scriptures that command treating people with respect and dignity. What immediately comes to mind is the statement of Rabbi Hillel: “What is hateful to you, do not do unto your neighbour”. This is actually the origin of Christianity’s Golden Rule, which became: “Love your neighbour as yourself”. On the other hand, there is a very clear statement in Leviticus that very clearly condemns homosexual activity. In addition, one of the most important things Jews are urged to do is to marry and have children. I was in Washington to attend the wedding of a family member, so these issues are very much in my mind right now.

In recent years, many Jews have been seeking ways to resolve the above contradiction. There are many branches of Judaism that vary most obviously by degree of adherence to tradition and Jewish Law (Halakha). Their responses to gay rights have accordingly been quite different. Reform Judaism does not require its followers to be bound by scriptural laws, but focus instead on Jewish values, morality and the connection with God. Because of this, many Reform Temples are very gay friendly, and I think I recall hearing of one or two openly gay Rabbis. Reconstructionists tend to practice their faith with more rigor, but holds that many of the ancient laws are open to modern reinterpretation. This is probably the most gay friendly branch out there. I say probably because I am not very familiar with this small group of Jews, but I know there are many female Rabbis, something impossible in more traditional forms of Judaism and I have heard it is also gay friendly. Conservative Jews are more traditional, but there is some leeway granted to the congregants in how strictly they follow Jewish law. Finally, orthodox Jews follow Halakha very strictly and are reluctant to accept modern changes. Many orthodox Jews who are gay feel pressured to hide their sexuality, because to be an openly practising homosexual is to openly violate halakha. Furthermore, this practical banning of gays seems to have engendered hatred and intolerant attitudes, including belief in the debunked notions that being gay is a choice or is an “illness” that can be “cured”. These attitudes now violate Jewish morality and are greatly out of step with modern attitudes, so the orthodox community has been making attempts to settle the contradictions and clarify the orthodox position on homosexuality. Recently, a book was published by a gay orthodox Jew in Montreal about living as a gay man and an orthodox Jew. Just last week, I became aware of a Statement of Principles developed by an international group of orthodox rabbis to codify gay rights in the synagogue and also to identify the limits of these rights. It also serves as a petition and invites Rabbis around the world to sign on to this statement. It was completed about a month ago, but it only came to my attention last week, when there was a news story about prominent Rabbis in Montreal that had added their signatures to the document. The overall tone of the Statement of Principles is one of acceptance and tolerance. The first principle states that “All human beings are created in the image of God and deserve to be treated with dignity and respect”. This basic point about dignity and respect is repeated several times throughout the document. The first principle condemns ridicule and harassment of homosexuals. Further statements state that gays should be welcomed as members of congregations, that Jews who want their orientation to remain secret should not be outed and, by the same token, those who are openly gay should not be required to stay in the closet, a statement considerably more progressive than the US Military’s position. Although some in the orthodox community still believe that homosexuality is a choice and promote “change therapies”, this statement asserts that, since the majority of mental health professionals reject these ideas and believe they could be dangerous, it is morally correct to reject these “therapies” if one feels them to be unnecessary or dangerous.

Some will feel that the statement does not go far enough. It very clearly states that marriage can only be between a man and a woman, and that homosexual activities constitute a violation of halakha, as distinguished from homosexual feelings. It also says that the orthodox community cannot give its blessing to same-sex affirmation or commitment ceremonies. I agree that it would be nice if the Rabbis had gone further and allowed these things, but knowing what I do about orthodox Judaism, I understand that it would have been just about impossible to maintain religious standards as they practice them currently. This statement was also produced as a result of debate and consensus among a very large group of Rabbis, which meant many people with a wide range of personal views needed to all be satisfied. Furthermore, if one reads the statement carefully, one will realize there are many things left unsaid that indicate a more progressive attitude, Although they can not approve of commitment ceremonies, they encourage synagogues to welcome and accept children of same-sex couples into the congregation and religious schools. While homosexual activity is prohibited, they state that

“We do not here address what synagogues should do about accepting members who are openly practicing homosexuals and/or living with a same-sex partner. Each synagogue together with its rabbi must establish its own standard with regard to membership for open violators of halakha.
Those standards should be applied fairly and objectively. “

What this means to me is that the rabbis are equating homosexual activities with any other violation of halakha, for example, violation of the Dietary Laws or other, far more obscure prohibitions that few people follow. Most orthodox synagogues are not overly harsh with these other open violations and the interdiction that standards be applied fairly and objectively ensures that openly practised homosexuality is no more severe a violation than any other. It is acknowledged that, while gay Jews cannot fulfill all the biblical commandments, or mitzvot, most scholars reject the notion that fulfilment of mitzvot is an all-or-nothing idea, meaning gay Jews can still be good Jews. Another statement implies that the only real criteria for special religious offices within the synagogue should be that the entire congregation is comfortable with the choice. This means that any synagogue can appoint gay people to the positions, if the members are comfortable with the choice. This satisfies the more conservative congregations that don’t want to be forced to be more progressive, while opening the door for those who wish to be more progressive. There is even more to the Statement of Principles, but this post is getting long enough. The full text of the Statement of Principles is available online, posted in English and Hebrew and is accompanied by a list of rabbis, educators and mental health professionals who endorse the Statement and have signed it. If you are an orthodox Jew and are in one of the above professions, you are welcomed to sign the document yourself by replying to the email address provided within the document. The link to the document is posted below:

http://statementofprinciplesnya.blogspot.com

I urge you to read the full document yourself and would like to hear your opinions on the issue. Please remember that this represents the MOST CONSERVATIVE AND TRADITIONAL form of Judaism and does not represent the majority of the Jewish community, which fall into on of the other branches of Judaism. Other forms of Judaism are generally more tolerant, even allowing gay Rabbis and accepting gay partnerships or unions in some form. I believe that, when compared to other religions, Judaism offers a very progressive approach. Perhaps some of you who practice other religions might know more about how your religion deals with gay issues. I welcome and encourage comments about this but, since I am venturing into religion, I will ask again that all comments remain respectful. Any hateful comments will be deleted. I don’t really expect any problems but just want to make sure everyone is aware of the rules.

Note that I have added some new blogs to my link list. I may be adding some more in the future if I feel they are a good fit for my site.