What does medieval liturgy, which recalls the sacrifices of 10 rabbis during the Roman conquest of the Land of Israel, have to inform us about what it means to be a Jew in the 21st century and how we can attempt to combat the recrudescence of antisemitism?
The “Eyleh Ezkerah” poem is told in differing forms twice a year: once amid the lamentations of Judaism’s most somber day – Tisha Be’Av – and once on perhaps the day of highest drama – Yom Kippur.
In the former case, the emphasis is on grief, a reflection of the day of mourning. On Yom Kippur, however, which is a festival day and the point of which is our spiritual elevation among the angels, the focus is on how these rabbis gave their lives for their faith – accepted martyrdom, which hitherto had largely remained anathema to the religious Jewish experience.
These martyrs are important because we can easily chart the three main rebellions against Rome one of which was the Great Rebellion of 66-73 during which Jerusalem, the city of fire, was conquered and the Second Temple destroyed. We have to understand our own role in creating the conditions for which our collective punishment was the inability to bring sacrifices for the sake of God in his own house.
Baseless hatred between Jews of different philosophical and religious hues undermined our unity and sowed the seeds of our destruction.
It could be argued that it was a similar emphasis that was our undoing more than 500 years previously when the Babylonians destroyed King Solomon’s First Temple. A people is only as strong as its weakest link and it only required a unified opponent for the cracks and fissures within our Jewish society to open wide enough to undermine the whole edifice.
To compare what happened 2,000 and 2,600 years ago to our situation today is by no means an exact science, particularly when it comes to the issue of antisemitism.
When we speak of the First Temple, we recall a time of kingship, of divided kingdoms – Judah and Israel – armies lined up against armies; tens of thousands killed in the struggle to hold on to this holy land. This is not our experience today; we cannot even imagine what that was like – and it is incumbent upon us to acknowledge the wonder and the glory that is present in our modern world.
Although there are divisions within our society, which we must strive to overcome, the differences between us, in my opinion, are not as wide as perhaps the media would like to portray. There are places within society where the Orthodox, ultra-Orthodox and the non-religious do interact with each other peaceably.
The liturgy helps us to focus our attention on how we bring the Holy One Blessed be He into a more central aspect. By elevating the rabbis’ ultimate sacrifice, it is a stark reminder of God’s centrality to our existence. It also crystallizes the reality – and perhaps this is where there are stronger resonances with today – that the assault against Jewry is almost always two-pronged; the first a delegitimization of Jewish people, the second against Judaism itself.
In addition, the poem also highlights the echoes throughout the generations of the consequences of fateful decisions; in this liturgy, the 10 brothers’ sale of Joseph (Genesis, Vayeshev) and the price paid by the 10 Rabbis for the brothers’ transgression (Midrash Eyla Ezkara).
The warning from history is clear. Even among brothers, we can arrive at a situation that is almost too dire to imagine. Therefore, on a basic level it entreats us to be more careful about how we treat our fellow Jews. Messiah does not belong to the National-Religious or the ultra-Orthodox or the entirely secular, rather he will be a representative of the Jewish people.
On a deeper, more intentional plane, however, one of the ways that we could combat antisemitism is to use this Yom Kippur to express a deeper love and understanding of our Jewish brothers and sisters.
I call on everyone – and the media in particular – to refrain, for one day – and erev Yom Kippur seems like a perfect time – from projecting negativity and criticism. If we can take a step back – or simply take the time to look around us – we can appreciate that there are so many wonderful aspects to our lives as Jews.
The author is the Chief Rabbi of Gush Etzion and the rabbinic head of the Jerusalem College of Technology and the head of its batei midrash.