A Prayer and Memory of a Jewish Woman
This week I have been asked what my thoughts are on the Pittsburgh Synagogue Shooting.
How can I tell you my thoughts on 11 souls I never met yet how I feel like my family has become a little smaller?
How do I consider the life of Rose, 97, who was slaughtered in a sacred place on a holy day?
How do I tell my people that I am sitting here clinging to the promise of an empty grave that we have been accused of filling when Gentiles screamed in our faces that we cannot be saved because we have killed the Son of G-d?
How do I say what the deadliest anti-Semitic attack on American soil means for me, means for us? And amid all this how do I process being considered a termite by a man who has never even laid eyes on me?
No one knows what to do with us, and even with a Homeland we are still told to leave. "And go where?" we ask, the reply we have heard forever "to Hell." Yet our G-d is enthroned in Heaven and He laughs because He topples kingdoms and crushes cities of those who curse His name. Yet He has chosen a name more cursed than any, belonging to a people more hated than any people, and He says "she is my delight!" How do I balance the way G-d looks at my Jewishness and the way humanity sees me when these are opposites?
How do I speak in reaction to horrendous evil when I also know that my hope is secure? How do I walk amid shadows and shine in the darkness with love and life?
First I wrote paragraphs of anger and fear. I wept. I prayed. I deleted them. Finally I wrote this poem in dedication to Rose Mallinger (97, Pittsburgh), Mireille Knoll (85, Paris), and Anne Frank (15, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp).
Oh Her blood was precious!
A Rose who watched our kin
Survive a civilized hell;
Evils my eyes will never see
What fears she bore living for a century
Against news of Jewish flights;
What visions may have plagued her?
How often had she seen his face,
That same demonic hatred
Walking through a sacred place?
We taste this evil daily
Memory in inherited doses
Of a promise to not forget
Of a reflection in the mirror
Eyes forever bearing visions
Of fire-- Smoke and burning books,
Every life is a mass of pages
6 Million never to be read
We only have the introduction
From our blooming Anne.
What good is it to tell them?
To tell men with empty chests
That we are not rats or insects
But living bone and Adam clay
While these men seek to hasten
Our return to dust and grave?
How do we befriend these vipers
When a Parisian Bubbe perished
By hands she used to hold?
Seeing a monster in the face
Of a boy she sought to raise?
Tell me how to walk through these days
And how to love these daunting goys?
When can I cease reminding them
That we Jews are humans fully
And full of dreams, and pains, and joys?
On weary days I wish that I were rested
To sleep among the honored women
No longer burdened by bearing shields
Six points no longer biting in my breast.
David, you bore this star in glory
But we bear it in scorned unrest.
Adonai, recall the Jewish meaning
Remember Your promise in the skies!
Answer us our timid question
Of why our hopeful mothers die
Why we perish daily
By hands that curse Your name;
Are we not Your testament?
If we die the nations will declare
That our G-d has died with us.
Our own sons have said this
That You died in Auschwitz.
Yet I know You died before then
Before our Temple lied in ruin
And Masada drenched by blood.
A star was born in Bethlehem
Bearing the full weight of a crown
Ruling over our many promised stars
Your stripes were more shaming
Than our prison uniforms
Your bleeding side more piercing
Than our infants' dying pleas
Oh Messiah who bore the grief of us
Raise us up so we might adore You
Lift up the gates, be lifted up!
Return to us Oh David's King
And wash away our tears and suffering.
How can I tell you my thoughts on 11 souls I never met yet how I feel like my family has become a little smaller?
How do I consider the life of Rose, 97, who was slaughtered in a sacred place on a holy day?
How do I tell my people that I am sitting here clinging to the promise of an empty grave that we have been accused of filling when Gentiles screamed in our faces that we cannot be saved because we have killed the Son of G-d?
How do I say what the deadliest anti-Semitic attack on American soil means for me, means for us? And amid all this how do I process being considered a termite by a man who has never even laid eyes on me?
No one knows what to do with us, and even with a Homeland we are still told to leave. "And go where?" we ask, the reply we have heard forever "to Hell." Yet our G-d is enthroned in Heaven and He laughs because He topples kingdoms and crushes cities of those who curse His name. Yet He has chosen a name more cursed than any, belonging to a people more hated than any people, and He says "she is my delight!" How do I balance the way G-d looks at my Jewishness and the way humanity sees me when these are opposites?
How do I speak in reaction to horrendous evil when I also know that my hope is secure? How do I walk amid shadows and shine in the darkness with love and life?
First I wrote paragraphs of anger and fear. I wept. I prayed. I deleted them. Finally I wrote this poem in dedication to Rose Mallinger (97, Pittsburgh), Mireille Knoll (85, Paris), and Anne Frank (15, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp).
Oh Her blood was precious!
A Rose who watched our kin
Survive a civilized hell;
Evils my eyes will never see
What fears she bore living for a century
Against news of Jewish flights;
What visions may have plagued her?
How often had she seen his face,
That same demonic hatred
Walking through a sacred place?
We taste this evil daily
Memory in inherited doses
Of a promise to not forget
Of a reflection in the mirror
Eyes forever bearing visions
Of fire-- Smoke and burning books,
Every life is a mass of pages
6 Million never to be read
We only have the introduction
From our blooming Anne.
What good is it to tell them?
To tell men with empty chests
That we are not rats or insects
But living bone and Adam clay
While these men seek to hasten
Our return to dust and grave?
How do we befriend these vipers
When a Parisian Bubbe perished
By hands she used to hold?
Seeing a monster in the face
Of a boy she sought to raise?
Tell me how to walk through these days
And how to love these daunting goys?
When can I cease reminding them
That we Jews are humans fully
And full of dreams, and pains, and joys?
On weary days I wish that I were rested
To sleep among the honored women
No longer burdened by bearing shields
Six points no longer biting in my breast.
David, you bore this star in glory
But we bear it in scorned unrest.
Adonai, recall the Jewish meaning
Remember Your promise in the skies!
Answer us our timid question
Of why our hopeful mothers die
Why we perish daily
By hands that curse Your name;
Are we not Your testament?
If we die the nations will declare
That our G-d has died with us.
Our own sons have said this
That You died in Auschwitz.
Yet I know You died before then
Before our Temple lied in ruin
And Masada drenched by blood.
A star was born in Bethlehem
Bearing the full weight of a crown
Ruling over our many promised stars
Your stripes were more shaming
Than our prison uniforms
Your bleeding side more piercing
Than our infants' dying pleas
Oh Messiah who bore the grief of us
Raise us up so we might adore You
Lift up the gates, be lifted up!
Return to us Oh David's King
And wash away our tears and suffering.
So beautiful!! 💗
ReplyDeleteYour love never fails, it never gives up, it NEVER runs out on me......holding on to truth when it seems impossible to see... holding on to you when you seem impossible to reach. 1 Chronicles 29:18
ReplyDelete“O Lord, the God of our ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, make your people always want to obey you. See to it that their love for you never changes.
This is a memory today of an atrocity that happened in Pennsylvania that touched our hearts and lives a year ago. And still as hate grows and Yeshua’s love outshines it. May their memories be a blessing and you words continue to open hearts and minds.
ReplyDelete