Goodbye New Zealand

“To live in New Zealand” is the name of a song praising and glorifying life in New Zealand, written and performed by a Yisraeli group called “Ethnix.” It is a dream of many, I am told. I guess I am one of the lucky ones who lived to fulfill that dream. It lasted ten years. It had good moments and not so good ones.

What we see New Zealand transforming into these days is, I guess, what I would categorize as the “not so good ones.” Already then (mid 1990’s to mid-2000), I could see the buds of what New Zealand has turned into nowadays. In a way, I am glad I no longer live there.

The red light for me was turned on following the terror attacks on 9/11. In their aftermath, many members of the Muslim faith were attacked, unjustly, I might add, simply because the attacks were carried out by Muslims.

We, members of the Canterbury Hebrew Congregation, immediately enlisted ourselves to a campaign to support New Zealand Muslims. We issued a statement of support and embraced the Christchurch Muslim Community. So did other groups. Among them, were lecturers of the Canterbury University in Christchurch where I was teaching at the time.

Towards that goal, we set up a group on campus, which was entitled, “The Coalition for Justice and Understanding,” a euphemism for an effort to bash America and Yisrael, if you ask me. Some even dared to admit to me, knowing full well that I am a proud American citizen, that America “deserved” 9/11.

Let me interject here that Canterbury University, as I mentioned before, had already been infected with anti Yisrael sentiments spread by some lecturers (https://wingnsonawildflight.blogspot.com/2017/12/time-to-drain-university-swamps.html). I remember the time when Dr. Josef Olmert, a Yisraeli lecturer, visited the campus and partook in a panel where he brilliantly responded to each of their attacks. Following the panel, he asked me, “How can you work with such a hostile faculty staff?”  The fertile ground was already there for the fruition of what we witness today.

During one of our meetings, the aforementioned Coalition decreed to petition to America not to enter Afghanistan for various reasons which I will spare the readers. I objected. I thought that it would have been wiser to turn first to Afghanistan and ask its leaders to extradite Osama bin Laden rather than let the architect and perpetrator of such a crime against innocent people go on free to carry out more. My suggestion was mocked and brushed off as futile and a waste of time. I accused those present of appeasement. “Yes,” I recall retorting at them, “blame the victim and let the criminal get away with murder.”

What upset me most about some of the expressions then, though, was that one lecturer, a Pakistani woman, a very intelligent one, responded to my mention of Auschwitz as one of the lessons that helped shape my life with the following, “The ovens of Auschwitz are cold.” Imagine saying that to a daughter of two Shoah survivors???? Some “justice and understanding,” Eh?

The greatest shock, however, came several months or about a year later when the Christchurch Mosque opened a new wing. The Chairman of its Board, Ibrahim, with whom I had good relations, invited two members of the Canterbury Hebrew Congregation for its house warming. I was one of them.

After we were greeted by the Imam, whom I also knew and with whom I jointly partook in “Interfaith” events, the two of us walked around the mosque. The amount of anti-semitic publications laid out on the tables was shocking. We left with much disgust and a vow to never set foot there again or communicate with any of its Board members.

I could burden you, dear readers, with more examples, all pointing towards one direction. New Zealand was slowly but surely paving its way to its own destruction, to an oblivion that threatens to drown it, its beauty and anyone’s dream to go live “on a green island in a faraway ocean,” as the lyrics of the song by Ethnix submit.

Should We Remember or Never Forget?

This week Jews are preparing to celebrate the festivity of Purim. Unlike every other week, in addition to this week’s Parasha, Torah portion, Vayikra, this Shabbat which precedes it, we read a second one. It is Parashat "Zachor" (remember), from the Book of Devarim (Deuteronomy). I wonder how many stop to question why we are reading TWO Parashot and on this Shabbat before Purim.

Zachor is one of the most important tenets in our Jewish tradition, if not the most important. A few years ago, I wrote an article describing its centrality in our culture. (https://wingnsonawildflight.blogspot.com/2015/09/yizkor.html)

The question that is begging to be asked is, why do we need to Remember right before Purim? More importantly WHAT is it that we need to remember?

Parashat "Zachor" starts with the following words: “Remember what Amalek did to you on your way out of Egypt.” (Devarim 25).

Naturally, the Torah is here to teach us a very important lesson in our Jewish history.

Someone recently told me that though history is always there to teach us a lesson, we can choose which lesson we want to learn. I agree.

Parashat "Zachor," however, is read this week precisely because the Torah wishes to teach us a lesson that we, Jews, cannot CHOOSE to learn. It is a lesson we MUST learn. The word, “Zachor,” is delivered to us in the form of commandment in the Hebrew Grammar, the language of the Tanach. And that lesson is one that is closely connected to Purim.

We have all heard of the wicked Haman, one of the main actors in the story of Purim, the one who wished to bring an end to the Jewish nation. Haman is a descendant of Agag, the king of Amalek, the same enemy mentioned in Parashat "Zachor," that relentlessly tried to destroy us at our weakest point. The connection between Haman and Amalek can be seen in the following article which I wrote a couple of years ago : https://wingnsonawildflight.blogspot.com/2017/03/have-jews-learned-anything-from-story.html

As I am sitting here pondering the choice of the word “Zachor” (remember), I wonder if instead of it, the Torah should have commanded us to “Never Forget.”

Let me explain myself.

When we order someone to do something, we are trying to get them to do something that needs to be awakened in them and needs to be performed, something that is not normally or regularly there and is not an integral part of their behavioural pattern. Otherwise why command them? Why remind them that they need to do it? Why remind Am Yisrael that they need to “remember?” Likewise, once they perform that directive, does it stay with them much longer after it was accomplished?

On the other hand, Never Forget, at least for me, means a charge, a responsibility which is permanently engraved or etched in a person’s essence, one he/she cannot shake off or rid themselves off for even one split second. It becomes part of who and what they are, part of their genetic blue print, I would venture to say. A lesson that one never forgets is always there.

Whether we choose to Remember or choose to Never forget, may we all have a joyous Purim, full of laughter and only the best of every blessing.

Shabbat Shalom

Prioritizing

 In this week’s Parasha, Moshe assembles Am Yisrael and provides them with the final directions and guidelines for the monumental and important undertaking of building the Mishkan, G-d’s dwelling place among His People.

Nevertheless, instead of delving unswervingly into this matter, Moshe precedes it by reminding Am Yisrael of the importance of keeping the Shabbat.

The commandment concerning the Shabbat, as mentioned in Exodus 20 verse 7-10, states:

“Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all they wor but the seventh day is a Sabbath unto the Lord thy G-d, in it thou shalt not do any manner of work, thou, nor thy so, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in tem is, and rested on the seventh day; wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it."

The reasoning behind keeping the Shabbat, as the commandment implies, is not just moral but also suggests that by resting and sanctifying it, one acknowledges the immensity of G-d as the creator of heaven and earth and all living things. 

Had Moshe wanted to remind Am Yisrael of the need to abstain from engaging in this colossal mission of building the Mishkan on Shabbat, all he had to do is remind them of the commandment and refresh their memory regarding it. Instead, however, he does not merely remind them of that, he also expands on it and tells them: “

“whosoever doeth any work therein shall be put to death. Ye shall kindle no fire throughout your habitation upon the Sabbath day.” (Exodus 35:2-3) Unlike the referenced commandment given at Mount Sinai which puts G-d as the ultimate creator at its center, here Moshe stresses the onerous nature of keeping the Shabbat and attaches a punishment by death to those who break it. Why the sudden preoccupation with the Shabbat and the stress on observing it, some may wonder. Moreover, why is it done in a forceful, threatening manner, others may ask. After all, should not the task of building the Mishkan be associated with pleasant positive and rewarding experiences? To answer that question, one must look at the role that Shabbat serves in the essence of Am Yisrael and the covenant it entered with G-d at Mount Sinai. It was the Covenant that transformed us from a multitude of slaves into a Nation, forged into a cohesive unit where each member shares the same destiny. There are other covenants that were entered in the Tanach. Each had its own, unique sign. Here are some examples. There was the Noahide Covenant with the rainbow designated as its sign. There was the Abrahamic Covenant. Circumcision is its mark. Among all the Biblical covenants, the Sinaitic one entered at Mount Sinai was probably the most significant in the history of Am Yisrael. The symbol of that Covenant, also known as the Mosaic Covenant, is the Shabbat. Shabbat occurs fifty-two times in the Hebrew calendar. We have weekly reminders of it. What use, therefore, would there be for spending time, efforts and other resources in building a dwelling place for G-d, if Am Yisrael does not remember its purpose in the first place? Prioritizing the significance of the milestones in the journey of Am Yisrael is the lesson G-d wants to teach His People at the onset of the Parasha. Internalizing that, is of prime importance. Without keeping the Covenant, without recognizing the substance and the core of the Covenant, the Mishkan will end up being nothing but a mere grand material monument devoid of any meaning or purpose. That is why Moshe needs to precede the instructions to build it by reminding Am Yisrael of their vocation and the unique part that they play on the chessboard of history irrelevant of constructing the Mishkan. And it is precisely by remembering this Covenant, signified by the Shabbat, that we can adhere to our fated role without the need for a physical or earthly structure to carry it out. Shabbat Shalom