Reflection on Kinah 41

 I gave this reflection at the South Philadelphia Shtiebel on Tisha B'Av, 5783, when Shtiebelers are invited to introduce different kinot

As many of you know, I was raised in a fundamentalist evangelical Christian home. I was taught that humanity is completely cut off from G!d and that all who don’t become evangelical Christians will experience eternal conscious torment in hell. My parents and churches taught that they and they alone had the truth – and all other religious viewpoints were not only wrong, but evil.

I rejected this view and majored in Judaic studies with a minor in Hebrew in college. I found several teachings in the Talmud that transformed my life, even as I remained Christian, ultimately becoming clergy, albeit a very liberal one who believed that other religions, particularly Judaism, taught truth. I attended my first Tisha B’Av service around that time, at the Temple on Peachtree, a historic Reform synagogue in Atlanta, and it was a powerful and meaningful service. The knowledge that the synagogue had been bombed during the civil rights era made it even more powerful.

Many years later, I found myself drawn to worship regularly in Jewish spaces, and I attended several more Tisha B’Av services, including the Zoom service from the Shtiebel in 2020 when the mezuzot were taken down from the first location on Passayunk, and I continued to be moved by the observance. But nothing prepared me for the Tisha B’Av service in 2021.

As we sat on the floor of Rabbanit Dasi’s home on 13^th Street, surrounded by burning candles, I found myself weeping, brushing away tears, hoping no one would notice. Despite all the study of the tragedies that befell the Jewish people over the millennia, only there, sitting on the floor, did it fully hit home. And a big part of the pain was the recognition that much of the horrific persecution of the Jewish people came at the hands of the Christianity I had been a part of my whole life. I had known this intellectually for a long time – but this was the first time I felt it in the depths of my soul. And I knew that even as I had been trying for my entire adult life to change the Christian church, to help rid it of its deep drive to persecute those who are different, that I could not make much of a dent.

And it shattered me.

The next day, Chaim Fruchter gave an introduction to this kinah, which laments the burning of 12,000 copies of the Talmud (among other sacred Jewish texts) by King Louis IX of France, at the urging of Pope Gregory IX, in a time before the printing press when manuscripts were precious. I became angry as I realized that many Christians – including many liberal Christian denominations – regard this wicked man as a saint – for example, he is the person “Saint” Louis, Missouri is named for and the Catholic Cathedral there is dedicated to him.

I finally decided to become Jewish earlier this year, converting a few days before Shavuot. There is so much of profound value in Judaism that nourishes my soul, and I have found, over the past several years, that being a part of the Jewish community enables me to thrive in a way I never did before.

But as a convert, part of the profound pain of the day for me is the realization that my ancestors and the religion they believed in – and that was my spiritual home for most of my life – is the source of much of the pain of this day. I mourn the loss of the Torah that was destroyed, in France and elsewhere.

May my mourning – our mourning - serve as a tikkun to help bring about geulah shleimah – complete redemption.

 

Thoughts about Kinah 11 - 5781, shared at South Philadelphia Shtiebel on Tisha B'Av

This kinah is based on Eicha 4, which tradition believes Yirmiyahu wrote as lament for killing of Yoshiyahu in battle. The first word of each verse of Eicha 4 is used as the first word of each verse of this kinah. It is not a kinah lamenting the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, but of the killing of a tzaddik, which the rabbis teach is like the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash.

Yoshiyahu’s father Amon assassinated when Yoshiyahu was 8 years old, and he became king. A Sefer Torah was found and he set about abolishing avodah zarah from Yehudah and restoring the observance of Torah and mitzvot to Israel.

The Egyptians wanted to travel through Yehudah to wage war with Assyria. Yirmiyahu advised Yoshiyahu to let them – but he did not, and fought them in battle, in which he was killed. He realized his sin and his last words are captured in Eicha 1:18 – HaShem is righteous, for I have rebelled against His word.

Why did he fail to heed the words of Yirmiyahu in a catastrophic way that cost him his life?

It must have been quite traumatic for him to lose his father to assassins at the early age of 8. I can only imagine the lack of trust he felt in others, particularly the Egyptians. And to discover the Sefer Torah and learn of the ways his father had sinned in stopping the sacrifices in the Beis HaMikdash and even burning the Torah. Reading of the redemption from Egypt – how could he allow them to come through?

Tragically, he was unable to heal the trauma from his childhood and learn new ways of interacting with others, including the Egyptians.

The kinah also mentions that he died because, although he ended public idolatry, the people continued avodah zarah in secret. It may seem unfair that he is punished for the sins of others of which he was unaware, but as the king, he was responsible for them.

How can we use Yoshiyahu’s life and death in our own lives to turn from the things that can prove to be our undoing and accept life?

We can learn that the traumas we have experienced affect us but do not define us, and learn to bring the wisdom of HaShem to each moment, listening to the wise counsel of others who, like Yirmiyahu, can help us to see clearly.

And we can do more cheshbon hanefesh, accounting of the soul, to uncover not just the obvious ways in which we turn from HaShem but the hidden avodah zarah that hides behind the doors of our hearts.

May we find refuah and teshuvah for our souls and our lives and may this Tisha B’Av be the beginning of redemption. Amen.

St. Louis and the Talmud

(I especially urge all of my Christian friends, particularly Roman Catholic, Episcopal, and independent sacramental Christians, to read this, particularly in preparation for August 25.)

For a little over a year, most days I have participated in a daf yomi, or daily Talmud, class through the South Philadelphia Shtiebel, an Orthodox synagogue in Philadelphia. The rabbis of the Talmud discuss a wide variety of topics and we in the class add our own questions and thoughts to the discussion. I find it very enriching and frequently find theological meaning in the text, despite not being Jewish myself.

There is a custom to celebrate completion of a tractate, one of the divisions of the Talmud that may take a few weeks or months to complete, with a siyyum, or feast. Since I started this during the pandemic, our practice has been to perhaps start a little early and each offer an observation or teaching from the tractate and then share a l’chaim, or festive beverage, on Zoom. However, in July, my friend Harold Chaim Fruchter, at the completion of the tractate we were studying, also completed studying the entire Talmud, since that is the point where he joined daf yomi seven and a half years ago. He and his wife Rena hosted a wonderful dinner at their home and he gave a short talk about his experience as we finished the class. It was a very joyous occasion.

A week and a half later, I experienced something very different in the observance of Tisha B’Av, the saddest day of the Jewish year, mourning the destruction of both the first two Temples as well as many other calamities that befell the Jewish people through the millenia. One of the characteristics of this fast day is the recitation of kinot, or laments written to commemorate various tragedies through history. Different people (myself included) were asked to give a reflection on a particular kinah. All of the ones I heard others give were profoundly moving, but the one that affected me the most was the one Chaim gave, on a lament over the destruction of over 12,000 copies of the Talmud in France by orders of King Louis IX, at the urging of Pope Gregory IX. The juxtaposition of his siyyum and his reflection on the kinah was quite poignant. I do not understand the blasphemy inherent in destroying a sacred work of this nature and I was horrified. King Louis also led two crusades, which resulted in much death and destruction as well, as well as confiscating Jewish property and expelling some of the French Jews.

But what horrified me the most was the realization that Louis is still regarded as a saint in both the Roman Catholic and Episcopal churches, as well as by many in the independent sacramental movement. His feast is observed on August 25. He is regarded as a patron of the Third Order of St. Francis. To its credit, the Episcopal Church at least acknowledges his antisemitism and burning of the 12,000 copies of the Talmud, among other acts of violence against the Jews, in his biography in the liturgical book Lesser Feasts and Fasts. In both the modern Roman Catholic and Episcopal rites, the observance of the feast is optional. I hope and pray all churches may remove him from their calendars and cease to venerate him as a saint.

However, I would like to suggest to Roman Catholics, Episcopalians, independent sacramental Christians, and other Christians that this day be used as a day of repentance for Christian antisemitism and reflection on how Christians can combat this scourge, unfortunately still with us today. I would also like to suggest that Christians take the opportunity to learn from the Talmud, which has much spiritual wisdom to teach us, and to that end I offer one amazing teaching by the Talmudic sage Beruriah that has profoundly affected my spiritual life since I first learned it in college. When her husband prayed for vengeance against bandits who had robbed him, citing the last verse of Psalm 104, “Let sinners disappear from the earth, and the wicked be no more” – Beruriah said the reading should be “Let SINS disappear from the earth, and the wicked will be no more” – because they will have done teshuvah and no longer be wicked – and he did so and they repented. I have thought of this interpretation each time I have recited that psalm in the intervening 30-odd years! One excellent place to start to learn more is Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz’s (z”l) book The Essential Talmud.

May the shameful antisemitic legacy of King Louis IX be a lesson to all of us to abandon hatred, especially antisemitism.