If I Forget Thee, O Jerusalem

In terms of Biblical prooftexts for supporting Israel, some of the most famous are found in today’s Torah and haftarah reading. L’ma’an tziyon lo eheshe, u-l’ma’an yerushalayim lo eshkot, “For the sake of Zion I will not be silent, for the sake of Jerusalem, I will not be still.” (Isa. 62:1), and Al homotayikh yerushalayim hifkadeti shomrim – kol ha-yom v’kol ha-lailah tamid lo yeheshu, “Upon your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen who shall never be silent by day or by night.” (Isa. 62:6). Not in the parashah, but probably the most famous of all, sung at weddings and other occasions, comes from the book of Psalms:  Im eshkahekh yerushalayim, tishkah yemini. “If I forget thee O’ Jerusalem, let my right hand wither. Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not exalt Jerusalem above my chief joy.” (Ps. 137) If you have ever been in my office, then you know that sitting proudly on my wall is a painting by my favorite contemporary Israeli artist, Deganit Blechner. In the background is a scene from Jerusalem, and in the foreground appears, among other verses, this verse from Psalm 137, the foundational text for keeping Israel in our hearts and deeds.

Last week my daughter stopped by my office. She looked up at the wall and I could see her sounding out the words on the painting. Then she turned around and asked, “Hey Dad – what happens if you are a lefty?” Does that mean you should say ‘Let my left hand wither?’ Or do you still say ‘Let my right hand wither’ – but it's not so bad, because after all, you are a lefty?”

I can’t make this stuff up. But after a week like this one, my daughter’s question was not only funny, but also eerily prescient and pressingly urgent. We have all been thinking and reading about Israel. My remarks this morning were written uncomfortably, knowing that every day, every hour, brings new news, here in the UN and of course, the reverberations back in the Middle East.

We are one congregation, a congregation filled with righties and lefties. And all of us promise to never forget Jerusalem. When it comes to the challenges facing Israel, I have discovered over the past few years that that my congregation is filled with righties and lefties who share very little – except for the fact none of you are shy, and each of you believes that if only someone in power would listen to you, or to that columnist on the listserv that you keep forwarding to me, then all of Israel’s problems would be solved. We are a diverse congregation, no question, but there is something important we share – right or left, all of us promise never to forget our commitment, all of us promise to stand by Israel.

When it comes to Israel’s covenantal expectations, the parashah describes a remarkably inclusive community. It ranges from the tribal heads and the officials to the woodchopper and the water drawer, those who are present and those who are yet to be present. The Israel tent has always been very large, and is meant to be able to hold a diversity of opinions. There is absolutely no reason to expect or aspire towards a monolithic community. When it comes to Israeli politics, it strikes me as quite reasonable to believe that the opinions in the Diaspora should be as diverse as, well, as diverse as they are in Israel – ranging from the far left to the right. It is an altogether legitimate position to believe that peace will only come by supporting the policies of the left. It is also altogether legitimate to believe that peace will only come by supporting the policies of the right. The pro-Israel, pro-peace tent is very wide and should remain so. This synagogue should be a meeting place for the pro-Israel community from all vantage points.

Truth be told, it is not the right or the left that troubles me, but a third group, more pernicious, and potentially on the rise. One voice that has no place in the dialogue and that defines the limits for our community. The most threatening voice addressing Israel from within the Jewish world is the voice of apathy. It is fascinating to me that the parashah explains that a breach of the covenant occurs not when someone thinks thoughts counter to another, rather a breach occurs when someone regards himself immune, thinking “I shall be safe and I will walk in my own willful heart.” (Deut 29:18). That person, the Torah explains, the one who disassociates himself from the community, as does the wicked child at the Passover Seder table, loses his or her right to be part of the so called peace tent. An evildoer is not a person who thinks differently than you. According to the commentaries, an evildoer, the one who can cause the destruction of the people, is a person who seeks to enjoy the privileges of the community without fulfilling the duties and obligations that come with it. You may not, never ever, separate yourself from Israel. Right or left, I dare not forget thee.

All too often, the complexity of the Israel’s predicament freezes people into inertia or apathy. As I mentioned, our haftarah contains one of the most famous statements about Israel. “Upon your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen, who shall never be silent day or by night.” Left or right, the litmus test for being pro-Israel is to set watchmen on her walls – in other words – to be concerned about her security. If I can share one criticism of the political left, it is that too often they confuse ambivalence about Israel’s internal policies with ongoing concern over Israel’s existential security – as if they are mutually exclusive. And If I can share one criticism of the political right, it is that they refuse to find fault in Israel, for fear that in doing so, they will be perceived as being soft on Israel’s existential security. I get it, everything is connected and we need to be careful about what we say in public and private. But I honestly don’t understand when it became such a complex thought to say I really disagree with what is happening in East Jerusalem, but I am deeply concerned about the threat from Iran and the terrorist network it supports. Remember Rabin? In the early 1990’s Rabin deported 415 Islamic fundamentalists to Southern Lebanon. At very same time he was engaged in multilateral negotiations across the Arab world. He knew that one can negotiate peace in earnest while fiercely protecting Israel’s interests. The desire for a strong and secure Israel and the desire for Israel to live in peace are not opposite principles – they are actually interdependent. As another verse states, Adonai oz l’amo yiten, Adonai y’varekh et amo va-shalom. “God will give strength to Israel and God will bless Israel with peace.” It is possible to fight for Israel and for peace at the same time; in fact, it is unconscionable to do otherwise.

It is simply not an option to fancy yourself immune from what Israel is facing. Right or left, you have to step up and get involved. I am reminded of Henry David Thoreau, who in 1846 refused to pay taxes to support government policies he objected to, and was famously thrown into jail. As the story goes, Thoreau’s friend Ralph Waldo Emerson came to pay a visit to the jail. Emerson thought Thoreau’s actions and subsequent imprisonment were pointless and asked, “Henry, what are you doing in there?” Thoreau replied, “Waldo, the question is, what are you doing out there?” Emerson missed the point of Thoreau’s protest. For Thoreau it was inconceivable that he could be party to policies he did not agree with. The challenge to Emerson – the challenge to all of us – is, given that we are “out here,” how exactly are we engaging with the pressing issues of the day?

We are living through a period of seismic shifts when it comes to Israel. In the past six months every geopolitical assumption about the Middle East has been turned upside down. We’ve seen the storming of the Israeli Embassy in Egypt, the showdown with Turkey, the machinations of the international community. I will be the first to admit that I do not understand everything…and I definitely do not know where and when this rollercoaster ride will slow down. But I do know that when it comes to Israel, it is not an option to sit out a round. At this auspicious time in our people’s history we dare not shirk our responsibility. All of us have skin in the game. As the slogan goes: “Wherever we stand, we stand with Israel.”

I shared a story of my daughter; let me share a story of my father. June, 1967 marked the outbreak of the Six Day War. My father had just passed his boards as a surgeon and was employed in a London Hospital. As some of you may recall, the mood was somber and dire. Nasser had closed the Straits of Tiran, the UN removed its emergency force in the Sinai, the Jordanians signed a pact with Egypt and the Syrians were amassing troops in the Golan. I have read my grandfather’s sermons from that time – the world really thought this could be the end of Israel. The then Chief Rabbi of England, Immanuel Jakobovits, called for a massive Israel solidarity rally at the Royal Albert Hall in the center of London. Tens of thousands turned out, my father included. Rabbi Lord Jakobovits made it very clear that the survival of the Jewish people was on the line and he asked everyone to do one of three things. One: If you can go to Israel, get on a plane and go help the Jewish state defend itself. Two: If you can’t go – if your personal, professional or familial priorities don’t allow you to go – then look after the interests of a person who is going; make sure their business or job is still present when they return. Three: If you can’t do either “one” or “two,” then give money to support those who are best able to protect Israel’s interests.

At the time, Israel needed three professions above all others at the time: truck drivers, anesthesiologists and surgeons. As a surgeon, my father got on the first plane to Israel. It was the third day of the war. My father tells the story that as they were arriving over the Mediterranean, two Israeli fighter jets escorted them. Upon landing the passengers discovered that Abba Eban had been on the plane, having just pleaded Israel’s case in front of the UN. But my father still thinks the fighter jets were for him, the volunteer surgeon. That summer, my father worked in Israeli hospitals performing skin grafts, reconstructions and other trauma-related surgeries, often filling in for an Israeli physician who was serving on the front line. My dad’s story is just one story, one story of thousands – and nothing in comparison to those who made and continue to make the supreme sacrifice, who give their lives on behalf of Israel’s defense. But I have always had that story tucked away somewhere and, I imagine that my father – who later that fall got married and started his family – always had it tucked away somewhere too. The knowledge that when the going got tough, when Israel needed him, he was there, he responded, he gave what he knew and along with the rest of the Jewish and world community, helped Israel continue the miracle of its existence.

The year is 2011. It is a different time. The threats of today are different than 1967, different than 1948, different than 1973. But I do believe, that no differently than at those moments, we are living through a time of transformation, of threat and, please God, of opportunity for Israel. I don’t have a crystal ball, and I don’t know what is the fastest road to peace. But I do know this. That one day, 10, 20, 30 years from now, we will look back on this moment – just as we look back on ‘48, ‘67, ‘73 – and we will know that we lived through an era when history turned on a pivot. Our children and grandchildren will read about it in a history book and they will walk into our rooms and say, “Dad, Mom – what did you do for Israel then?”

You may or may not be a doctor able to fly to Israel, and for that matter, that may not be what Israel needs right now. You may or may not be in position to write a check, or sit on a board of some pro-Israel organization. But if you have never gone to a rally, shown support, taken a class, educated yourself, educated a colleague, well let me tell you, this is New York City; the fault is yours. Speak to your children about Israel, travel there, send them for a summer, for a gap year. Build a loving, caring and nurturing relationship with Israel. It is not in the heavens; it depends only on you. What can I do? My father has a working answer to the question. He gave of himself at the critical hour, so that Israelis could defend the Jewish homeland. Me, you can be sure I personally will have a working answer to that question. And as your rabbi, I can assure you that in this synagogue we will be at the front line of the question. As for you – you have skin in this game. You need an answer to the question of what you did when Israel needed you most.

Right or left. I don’t care. Just do not think yourself immune from the Jewish people, do not write yourself out of your covenantal responsibility. Do not look back at this moment and say, “I did nothing.”

“If I forget thee, O’ Jerusalem, let my right hand wither…if I cease to think of thee, if I do not keep you in my memory, in my thoughts and in my deeds at all times.