This Week Marked The 80th Anniversary Of The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. My Whole Life, All I Heard About

This week marked the 80th anniversary of the Warsaw ghetto uprising. My whole life, all I heard about was the tremendous Jew hatred in Poland. During our recent visit to Spain, I learned that Poland was one of the most welcoming and tolerant places for Jews…until it was NOT.

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Jew in the City/Dani Ishai Behan

To the Reform Jewish community:

I think I have some misconceptions about the reform community. I think I'm wrong about how I perceive reform Jews and their level of observance, and I want to be educated.

The things I'm going to say are going to be pretty harsh, but I promise I say them so you can understand where I'm coming from, my experience with the Reform movement, and that I want to learn because I see some problems with my thinking. My background and experiences are primarily with the conservative movement, modern orthodox, and Chabad. It's no secret that within these communities, reform Jews get a pretty bad reputation (I want to stress: Not everyone in these movements says/believes these things, but it's common to hear) To the more right-wing side of Judaism, reform Jews are seen as assimilated Jews, "Jewish only in the name" I've heard. I'm told about how reform Jews widely don't keep kosher, often don't have mezuzot, don't pray, don't lay tefillin, don't keep shabbat except making a dinner every now and then. I'm told, and given the impression, that reform Jews have a loose relationship with their Judaism and misunderstand our core texts which leads to misunderstandings and demonization of Jews who do (ie "Orthodox Women are oppressed").

I don't have very much experience with Reform Judaism (which is likely where my ignorance comes from), and I understand that there are Reform Jews who may keep kosher, or may keep Shabbat, but I think my misunderstanding of what makes someone reform is their level of observance. To me, if I encountered a Jew who grew up Orthodox but now no longer kept kosher, kept shabbat, threw out the tzitzit and doesn't lay teffilin, I'd say he's no longer orthodox and he's reform.

Is this where my misunderstanding is coming from? Is it the shul you go to? I just can't imagine seeing a man with tzitzit in a Reform shul. Are you taught that there are observances you no longer need to keep?

I have a pretty decent-sized Reform following, so I've heard from you about how it's offensive and painful when people assume a lack of observance, and that that's not what it means to be reform. I want to be educated, and I want to listen. At the same time, I can't ignore the instances I was in a reform-dominated space and they told me themselves "Oh yeah reform Jews don't keep kosher, it's not important," or about how they work on Shabbat, and then I notice they don't know Hamotzi or the Birkat.

I see the divide between movements and it feels like we can't reach across the aisle to understand each other. Ring-wing Jews are mad at left-wing Jews for not maintaining important traditions, but mainly they are mad at reform rabbis because they see the loss of tradition as the fault of the community leader, that the community would choose to uphold more traditions if they were educated on it, which is the responsibility of the rabbi. Reform jews are mad at right-wing Jews because, let's be honest, right-wing Jews are constantly talking trash and have a belief that they are "better" Jews for being more observant. But I think reform Jews don't really understand some practices, or they aren't taught about them right, because a large portion of dialogue I've had with reform Jews has been me having to field accusations and speak for the movement about how right-wing Jews aren't all sexist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. and neither are the practices. So I think this also plays a large part in why Reform Jews have a problem with Jews from other movements, because they believe we're closed-minded.

I think these hard conversations need to be had so that we can come away understanding each other. I want Judaism to move past the need for movements, which I think we are, because part of me believes they do more harm than good and people never feel like they quite "fit" certain movements. I just hope that these conversations can be had in good faith.

Mazal Tov

Its Jerusalem day

56 years !!!

Jewish Projects

Let's talk about appropriation of Judaism, and hijacking Jewish history

"According to Halacha, Jews who abandon their Jewishness by choice become 'meshumadim' (An example being messianic "jews" of Jewish ancestry). Though Jewish by lineage, they cannot claim any privilege pertaining to Jewish status. To make it simple: if we don't claim you, you don't get to claim us."

Credit: insta user @rootsmetals

THE HOLOCAUST WAS IN COLOUR

I woke up today in Jerusalem to the sound of a siren marking Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day. The fucking Holocaust. This thing that's there. This thing that every Jewish kid has to learn about far too young. There’s no good age to learn about it. It takes away an innocence whatever age you learn.

It's a lesson of: actually - the worst shit can happen.

Actually - the worst shit did happen.

Actually the worst shit could happen again.

There is no objective proof of God - but Auschwitz did happen. It’s difficult to remain idealistic about human beings after that. If tales of individual acts of heroism that emerged from the Holocaust are supposed to give us solace and an after-taste of hope, the bigger question is what is it that makes these tales such anomalies?? What is it that prevented every person from being a hero? And why did it happen in the first place?

Visiting Auschwitz ruined part of me. It really did. Even before visiting, all that bullshit ruined part of me. I remember seeing images on TV as a kid and that ain't healthy. To see ghouls hanging on barbed wire. Piles of skeleton and flesh. I don't see how it can't ruin anyone if that's you and your kind they were gunning for. The idea that people murdered you because you were born you. The idea that your fellow countrymen turned round and said: actually you're not one of us. Or turned a blind eye, buttoned up their lips, gazed down in silence and left you to deal with it on your own. It's not like this puts joy in your heart. It puts something in your heart that I can't explain. It puts in your heart the sensation that some people don't want your heart to beat. And that's a confusing feeling for any heart: a nexus of emotions. A paralytic, existential moment. The loneliest heart, scarred by barbed wire and frost.

The fact that I can only trace my family tree back a few generations has always gnawed at me. I can only go back so far and then there's nothing. Just a black hole. Part of my connection with planet earth has been blotted out for good. I've been disinherited of my roots - from knowing the specifics of who I am and where I come from.

A few years back I visited Auschwitz - this massive shithole in Poland. And it's not like this death factory could have been a secret. There's no way. People knew. It's huge. It just goes on and on. And there's something weird about it. And you can't quite figure it out. And then you realise - it's all in colour. It's not in black and white. The images we're used to seeing of Auschwitz are black and white. And as horrific as those images are they provide a safe, historical distance. It appears a bygone world far removed from us. But it's here in colour and it's the same world we inhabit. The same air, the same trees, the same rain falling. And the human beings would have been in colour too, with red blood cells and capillaries and hearts beating like ours. They weren’t creatures from yester-year, they were modern human beings with the same body parts and feelings. And they were murdered by modern human beings who also had the same body parts and who probably loved their children and kissed their partners goodnight.

There's more I could write. I could write about mountains of shoes. I could write about piles of hair. I could write about buttons and cutlery and possessions that emerge from the mud in the rain. I remember having a stupid back and forth in my mind over some buttons I found which I put back into the mud. I had this stupid thought that maybe I should have "liberated" the buttons rather than leave them in that shithole - but then thinking that would be stealing? But would it be stealing if they'd been stolen by scum and were now being "taken back" in a spirit of love and solidarity by someone on their side? “Liberating buttons.” Stupid stuff. Ridiculous thoughts that you can somehow do something correct to rectify what happened here and bring some kind of harmony. In the end I left them. The buttons were stolen and they don't belong to Auschwitz - but they belong to the memory of what happened there - so they can at least continue to speak from the mud to anyone who sees them.

If I'm honest, part of me wishes I hadn't visited the place. I came away angry and it killed any absolute faith I have in human beings. As I say, individual tales of heroism and defiance aren’t enough to justify true optimism. They're a plaster to cover up the deeper sickness of who and what we are as a species. There's something worrying about human beings and our capacity for cruelty. A species whose children pick the wings off flies, combined with a propensity to herd mentality, is dangerous. It should trouble all of us. I don't know how we overcome it, keep it restrained, or collectively channel it toward a universally agreed direction that’s aimed at goodness.

If I have one reflection on whatever nonsense it is I'm writing it's this: I think there's a violence in human beings. There is violence in the human soul. There is violence and there is cruelty. But more than that there is fear. Despite our songs and poems, I'm not sure love is the most powerful force on earth. There’s a strong argument to suggest fear is the primary driving force behind the actions of the animal we call a human being. It's fear of freezing to death that causes us to build shelters. It's fear of going hungry that causes us to stock food. It's fear of being ostracised that causes us to ostracise others. It's fear of ridicule that breeds conformity. It's fear that causes people to keep their heads down. And when the moment of danger comes? When the tyrants enter? When the bullies arrive? It's fear that causes people to not speak up. To turn a blind eye. To let someone else take the bullet. People can bombastically jump on the bandwagon and say "never again" but it’s tough to find your voice when face to face with a bully. People can say never again but it’s tough to square up if someone has raised their fist and shown they will use it. It’s tough to be brave when the moment comes and there's so many thoughts going through your mind and your brain and adrenalin decides it's best to shut down and stay quiet for the sake of self-preservation. It’s tough to do good things in this world because the bad things are loud and scary and intimidating. It’s tough for people to rise above fear. There’s a reason why heroes are called lone heroes. They’re uncommon.

That's why it's good to be writing this from Israel where Jews are once again in their ancestral home, the place they forged an indigenous civilisation many thousands of years ago before the Babylonians and Romans forced them into exile. A place where they can ensure that "Never Again" is not left in the hands of a species that pulls the wings off flies. Google the Evian Conference - visit Auschwitz yourself - survival is not a game to be left in the hands of others or based on the strength of promises. Because there's always a chance that when the chips are against you and you call out to friends or others for help, you could be left hanging around wondering when they'll arrive?

And the answer might be:

Never. Again.

So. Anyway. It's 5pm. I need a piss. Then I'll probably eat some bread. A siren went off this morning. Just one final thought before I have a wee. I say that any absolute faith I have in human beings is lost. And that's true. Yet every day I experience such joy at existing. I love walking about, talking to people and connecting with souls cut from the same cloth. I like nature and I like looking at things and if I didn't love science so much I'd probably be a new age nut hugging trees and trying to kiss ants. Being alive is the most beautiful thing I've experienced to date.

And as embarrassed as I am to say it would you look at me trying to finish on a positive note?

Maybe there is something stronger than fear?

The persistant impulse to seek blessings in a world full of curses. The sheer chutzpah of life. The defiance. Not to vanquish the darkness, but to live in spite of the darkness. I can handle a world where Auschwitz took place if I also get to live in a world where there are people I love. I can handle a world where there’s horror if I also get to laugh now and then. And the fact that love, laughter and happiness can blossom in a world where the worst can happen - and has - must count for something. Deep down the impulse to go in search of life’s blessings is within all of us. It’s part of who we are. It’s why we get up each morning. We have to have faith that all will be well even when logic, history and common sense says otherwise. Actually it’s not even a question of faith. We have no choice. I think hope is hardwired into all of us. Deeper than fear. We are a creature that hopes. And sometimes, with the right wind behind us, at the right tide, we make those hopes come true. Sometimes, if you will it, it is no dream.

Lee Kern

This was written in Jerusalem in 2015 on Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day