Rosh Hashanah Morning
September 23, 2006
Rabbi Eric S. Gurvis

Gut Yontif! Shanah tovah – and I must add, Shabbat Shalom!

A story is told that in the days of King Solomon there lived a two-headed man. Upon the death of his father, the two-headed man became embroiled in a bitter dispute with his siblings over the inheritance. “Since I have two heads,” reasoned the man, “I deserve twice as much of father’s money as the rest of you.” His siblings protested, “Perhaps you have two heads, but you have just one body. Therefore you deserve only one share.” As you can guess, the dispute was brought before the wise King Solomon who said: “Pour boiling water over one of the man’s two heads. If the second head screams in pain, then we will know he is one person. If not, it will have been determined that the two-headed person is, in fact, two separate individuals.” Rabbi Avi Weiss relates this tale in his book, Principles of Spiritual Activism, wherein he concludes, “so it is with our Jewish people. If one in our extended Jewish family anywhere in the world is in pain – in effect, has boiling water poured over his or her head – and if we feel it and scream in pain, then we have proven that we are truly one. If not, we show that we are nothing more than a fragmented and discordant [people].” Rabbi Weiss adds: "May we always feel the suffering of our fellow Jews – and of all people.”

The beginning of a New Year in Jewish life presents something of a paradox. It is a joyous occasion filled with anticipation and excitement at the prospect of a fresh start. At the same time, this day ushers in the most solemn, intense period in the Jewish calendar. As such, we enter the New Year, our joy and excitement entwined with the somber task of reflecting on our not-so-perfect lives. This process is called Heshbon HaNefesh, which literally means “accounting of the soul.” Heshbon HaNefesh is a process of intense, and honest self-reflection. It is the soul-work to which we are called during these Days of Awe, as we are asked to take stock of our words, our deeds, and our lives as we embark on life in the New Year. If we take this process seriously, this intense reflection can be difficult and sometimes painful.

This paradox of joy mixed with somber introspection strikes me powerfully as I approach this New Year, 5767. As we begin our Heshbon HaNefesh, the accounting of our souls, we know that in recent months boiling water has been poured on our heads. Confused, many of us are pained over how to respond. This summer we saw Israel fight the tenth war in her brief history. Many are perplexed and even in pain over their relationship to the State of Israel and her people. Many are asking, what are our responsibilities to our brothers and sisters who live there? I know some would prefer Israel be left off the agenda of topics addressed from this bima. I believe we do not have the luxury of erasing Israel from our communal agenda. Israel is not an easy topic. There are widely divergent feelings about Israel in this – and in every Jewish community. Frankly, for some time I have felt as if I could stand on this bima and speak just the word “Israel,” return to my seat and watch an argument unfold. However, with this summer’s events not only must I speak about Israel – we must speak about Israel – in the days, weeks and months ahead. We do not have to agree, but we do not have the luxury of treating the subject of Israel like an elephant on the table which everyone knows is there, but which no one dares mention. Some of you will surely disagree with what I am about to say. In the spirit of this season of Heshbon HaNefesh, I ask only that you listen. I, too, am prepared to listen, and to dialogue. For me dialogue is a reality lived in relationship, not in e-mail. So my invitation is for conversation, face-to-face, and not in cyberspace. I ask only that if you choose to respond, that you do so respectfully. Leonard Fein once wrote: There are two kinds of Jews. One wants an Israel which is militarily strong, capable of defending itself, defeat any enemy, an Israel that is tough enough to do what has to be done for its survival. The other wants an Israel which is a beacon of justice and righteousness, which affirms the humanity of all, friend and enemy, which prides itself on its civility and its compassion. The trouble is, Fein concludes, most of us are both kinds of Jews.

I felt the boiling water on my head very acutely this summer. I felt it because of my love and admiration for Israel and her people. I felt it because my friends, especially those in Haifa, were forced to race for bomb shelters sometimes ten times a day. I felt it because many of our young people were in Israel for summer trips. I felt this especially because my own daughter was among them. My soul has been torn over the events of this summer. I have engaged quite seriously in a summer-long process of Heshbon HaNefesh as I sought to find perspective about these events. What I now share is just that – my own sense of perspective. I am not a politician, nor am I am an expert in world affairs. I am a Jew who has been searching his soul, challenging his assumptions, and his dreams. Like many others, I have had to face some harsh realities in a summer which all-too-often seemed dark and cold, rather than bright and sunny. With it all, I continue to dream of a day when, as one poet wrote,“Israel and her neighbors will touch hands in peace.” I am, however, less optimistic now than ever before about that time coming in my lifetime. The tragic loss of life during this summer’s events in Israel, Lebanon and Gaza is just that – tragic. No matter who may be right and who may be wrong, life is precious and the loss of life is tragic. Our Jewish tradition teaches that all life is precious. Boiling water has been poured on our heads, and we’ve all felt the pain.

The events of this summer did not really begin this summer. It may seem easy to point at the kidnapping of Gidon Shalit as the trigger for events in and around the Gaza Strip. Likewise it may seem to make sense to point at Hezbollah’s cross-border raid into northern Israel, killing Israeli soldiers, and kidnapping Eldad Regev and Ehud Goldwasser as the trigger for events in northern Israel and Lebanon. This summer’s violence did not begin with these two events. These respective acts, on the part of Palestinian guerillas from Gaza and Hezbollah terrorists from Lebanon, were straws. And they broke the back of Israeli restraint. We can debate the wisdom and magnitude of Israel’s response. The bottom line is that Israel was attacked, and the attacks did not begin this summer.

Last summer I spent almost a month studying in Jerusalem during the weeks leading up to Israel’s withdrawal from Gaza. I found myself in a country deeply divided over then Prime-Minister Sharon’s policy of unilateral withdrawal from Gaza. Nearly every person and nearly every car carried tangible symbols either supporting or protesting the coming withdrawal. The tension was palpable. It reminded me of my year in Israel during Rabbinic school during the period leading up to Israel’s withdrawal from Sinai. Then too, the country was deeply divided over the decision to relinquish territory in the hope of achieving peace. Yet, Israel withdrew, both from Sinai, and just one year ago from Gaza. As had been the case prior to withdrawal from Gaza, so it was after the withdrawal – rockets flew from Palestinian hands with Israeli towns and civilians as their targets. Six years ago, after a protracted presence in southern Lebanon, Israel withdrew its troops from Lebanon, with the expectation that a sovereign Lebanon would patrol its own borders. Yet, for six years southern Lebanon has been the staging ground for Hezbollah in its fight against Israel. This summer’s barrages of katuysha and other more powerful missiles was a significant escalation of Hezbollah’s attacks on the State of Israel. Last December, 48 members of our congregation traveled with me to Israel. We spent two nights at the guest house at Kibbutz Kfar Giladi, just about 1 kilometer from the Lebanese border, and just minutes north of the Israeli town of Kiryat Shemona. The morning after we left the kibbutz we learned that a Katuysha rocket fired by Hezbollah from a position in southern Lebanon struck Kiryat Shemona the day we left the kibbutz. It was one rocket of many during the six years since Israel left Lebanon. The kidnapping of Gidon Shalit and the cross-border raid into northern Israel were not simple pretexts as some suggest. They were straws which broke the back of Israel’s restraint as their territorial sovereignty and security were compromised by attacks from outside their borders.

Was Israel right to respond? In his classic 1977 book, Just and Unjust Wars, political theorist Michael Walzer argues that “war is sometimes justifiable.” Yet, “the conduct of war is always subject to moral criticism.” In his more recent work, Arguing About War, Walzer states that, “All of us who argue about the rights and wrongs of war agree that ...everyday life is lost as soon as the fighting begins. War is a zone of radical coercion, in which justice is always under a cloud. Still,” writes Walzer, “sometimes we are right to enter the zone.” In early August, Walzer weighed in on this summer’s events in the pages of The New Republic. He wrote: “Israel is now at war with an enemy whose hostility is extreme, explicit, unrestrained, and driven by an ideology of religious hatred...This is an enemy that does not field an army; [it] has no institutional structure and no visible chain of command...[It] does not ... acknowledge any rules of engagement. How do you--how does anyone--fight an enemy like that?” Walzer addresses the issue of the use of civilians as human shields, stating, “The crucial argument is about the Palestinian use of civilians as shields ...Israeli soldiers are ...expected to do everything they can to prevent civilian deaths, and, on the other hand, they are expected to fight against an enemy that hides behind civilians...There is no neat solution to [the] dilemma [faced by Israeli soldiers.] When Palestinian militants launch rocket attacks from civilian areas, they are themselves responsible--and no one else is--for the civilian deaths caused by Israeli counter fire. But ...Israeli soldiers are required to aim as precisely as they can at the militants, to take risks in order to do that, and to call off counterattacks that would kill large numbers of civilians ...The Palestinian use of civilian shields, though a cruel and immoral way of fighting, is also an effective way of fighting...Civilians will suffer so long as no one on the Palestinian side (or the Lebanese side) takes action to stop rocket attacks.”

In the midst of this summer’s tumult, examining a variety of perspectives, I found Walzer’s argument compelling. We need to confront some realities in this conflict: Hezbollah is a terrorist organization, formed in the aftermath of the 1982 War in Lebanon. The group’s manifesto was announced on February 16, 1985. It speaks of three goals: the eradication of Western Imperialism in Lebanon, the trans-formation of Lebanon Confessionalism (politics)into an Islamic state, and the complete destruction of the state of Israel. Experts have been saying for years that Hezbollah is one of Israel’s worst nightmares. In Hezbollah, Israel faces an enemy whose bottom line is her destruction. Israel faces an enemy that, at one and the same time, holds Lebanon hostage, and enjoys the backing of Syria and even more ominously, Iran, whose President repeatedly issues denials of the reality of the Holocaust and calls for Israel to be wiped off the map or at least moved to Germany or the United States.

Hamas was formed in 1987 by Shaikh Ahmed Yassin of the Gaza wing of the Muslim Brotherhood at the start of the 1st Intifada. The Hamas charter, written in 1988, likewise calls for the destruction of the State of Israel. It calls for replacing Israel with a Palestinian Islamic state in the area that is now Israel, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip. This summer’s attacks on Israel were initiated by organizations who seek Israel’s destruction. Was Israel right to defend herself? Emphatically yes!

The conflict is complex. I do not pretend to have the answers. I love and support Israel. There are countless ways in which Israel makes me proud and enriches my Jewish identity. That said, I have never agreed with every policy of every Israeli government. I don’t expect I ever will – regardless of which party is in power. But I remind myself: I am proud to be an American. I am grateful for the values for which this country stands, and for the freedoms I enjoy. I am often proud of my country. At the same time, regardless of which party’s candidate is in the White House, or who controls the chambers of Congress, I do not always agree with the policies and actions of our nation’s government. One common ideal the United States and the State of Israel share is the value of vigorous debate and the right to disagree with governmental policies while remaining a proud, patriotic member of society.

Israel has not been perfect in its dealings with the Palestinians. Nor has she been perfect in her defense of her citizens and their homes. War itself is a reflection of imperfection and broken-ness that tragically is all-too prevalent in our world today. But as Michael Walzer points out in his writings on the subject, sometimes war is just. This summer, as Israel defended her citizens and borders she fought a just war.

As we gather to welcome the New Year and celebrate the creation of the world, I wish it were a more joy-filled and peaceful world in which to celebrate. We cherish the ideal of shalom – which we often translate as “peace.” The word comes from the Hebrew root for “wholeness.” If we could realize the ideal of shalom – true wholeness, nothing would be broken, war and conflict, would be absent. We are still a very long way from that ideal. In my Heshbon HaNefesh over this summer’s events, I faced the reality that if Israel and her neighbors are ever “to touch hands in peace” both sides will have to agree that peace is the ultimate goal, and that life is more sacred than animosity, hatred, and even territory. Israel has faced this fact again and again. She faced it when withdrawing from the Sinai. She faced it when 2000 in leaving southern Lebanon to what she hoped would be Lebanese control. She faced it one year ago when disengaging from the Gaza Strip. Ehud Olmert and his Kadimah party were elected in January of this year on a platform calling for Israel to withdraw from nearly all of the West Bank. In recent years, and even in recent weeks, Israeli leaders have even broached the subject of returning the Golan Heights to Syria. We can talk about the need for Israel and the Palestinians to return to the negotiating table and the process of working together for peace. However, this summer I came to believe that at the present time the bottom line is that too much of the Palestinian leadership, and Hezbollah still hold the ideal of a Middle East that does not include Israel. Can Israel negotiate with adversaries whose bottom line is nothing short of her destruction? I will continue to pray for the emergence of leadership in the Palestinian community with whom Israel can talk. Imperfect as the past has proven to be, I marvel at Israel’s resolve in maintaining the hope, at least in the populace if not always in the government, that peace with the Palestinians is possible. Indeed, even in recent days and weeks we have seen hopeful signs of the possibility of the renewal of talks.

In this summer’s extreme Middle Eastern heat, the situation boiled over into conflict. For us, as Jews, boiling water was poured over our heads, even as it was poured over the heads of many others. As the boiling water hit the heads of our brothers and sisters in Israel we did indeed cry out in anguish. Did we cry because our brothers and sisters were hurting? Are we prepared to come to their aid, and to support them as they continue the fight for their right to exist and their desire to do so in peace with their neighbors? We must. Can they trust that we are one with them, even as we call upon the leaders on all sides of this bitter conflict to work for peace. They need us! As this New Year dawns, I pray that new hope, and new opportunities for working towards peace will likewise dawn.