From the Rabbi

Over the past few decades, a new initiative toward peace has emerged — Jewish-Christian interfaith pilgrimages to the Holy Land. These inclusive visits to sites holy to Jews, Christians and Muslims lay the groundwork for understanding and acceptance among the travelers and, in a way, serve as test cases for peace in a controlled environment. Pilgrims extending their hands to others can help to turn swords into plowshares.

The Catholic Church’s Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) acknowledged its role in spreading antisemitic rhetoric that may have fueled the resulting Holocaust. The ratification of the “Nostra Aetate” document was the church’s way of extending its hand in peace to Judaism. This resulted in a spirit of reconciliation between Jews and Catholics around the world. The message that emerged from the Catholic leadership in Rome spread to other Christian denominations in communities around the world, including the Evangelical Movement here in America.

As Vatican II was wrapping up in Rome, America was dealing with its own racial soul searching. At the height of the Civil Rights Movement, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. led the march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, who locked arms with Dr. King, was asked upon his return from Selma whether he had found much time to pray. He responded, “I prayed with my feet.” Being an active pilgrim in a common march, Heschel believed, was the most important prayer of all.

To extend a hand or to walk together — each is an expansion of the mind, from narrow to wide, opening oneself to learning from others and respecting them. To illustrate, consider the first step in a pilgrimage: agreeing on the itinerary — deciding which Christian sites to visit, which Jewish and which Muslim. In doing so, we begin to discover that we share more than we thought, and we learn from our debates.

Christians occupy an essential place in the Middle East. But it is challenging to transfer the cooperation between Christians and Jews in America into interfaith relations with Christians in the Holy Land, largely because Christians in the Holy Land are Arab Palestinian. However, I see an opening here, a way to start a conversation — to extend a hand. In the Middle East, many Christian clergy have a privileged freedom to circulate where average citizens cannot. Traveling with these clerics grants access to otherwise restricted sites — holy sites — that reveal other cultures.

The ongoing conflicts in the Middle East show that the pursuit of peace remains elusive and a most compelling issue. In fact, in an effort to change the paradigm of discussion, my own Project Genesis Interfaith group presented a peace proposal in New York and Jerusalem, in 2019 and 2020. We believed then as we do now that to attain peace in the Middle East, there must first be peace among the religions. Holy sites should remain open and accessible, serving as quiet sanctuaries and religious embassies.

In the face of continuing Middle Eastern strife, this effort may seem like grasping at straws. But it is essential to recognize that some important perspectives often are excluded from the mainstream conversation and, in some cases, are consciously ignored. By offering an alternative — extending a hand — we give peace another chance.

A happy and peaceful Shavuot to all…

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

My class recently visited “The Sassoons,” an exhibit at the Jewish Museum in Manhattan. Through family photographs, documents, artwork, and textiles, we observed the history and legacy of this prominent and wealthy Jewish family of Iraqi origin. They were known as the “Rothschilds of the East.” It is a family story told through four generations of traders, socialites, soldiers and hedonists — how they rose in prominence, their philanthropic and cultural contributions, and their impact on Jewish life and identity.

Like many Jews, prominent or not, the Sassoons were expelled. The first generation, David and Hannah Sassoon, left Baghdad in 1830. Following a short stay in neighboring Persia, they settled in Mumbai, India. Here, they aligned their fate with the British Empire. They and their descendants, wanting to be accepted by the British aristocracy, began to copy them by showcasing their wealth. They were determined to buy status and happiness with money. And they succeeded. But at what cost?

Visiting the museum just a few days before Passover, it occurred to me that the four generations of the Sassoon family could stand as an allegory for the four children of the Haggadah. Four generations of this family were swept away from Judaism until they had lost all vocabulary and didn’t know how to ask. At each entry point into British society, another piece of identity was shed and reshaped.

The first generation is the generation of migration, depicted as the wise child, who asks, “What are these testimonies, statutes, and ordinances that the Lord our God has commanded you?” David Sassoon, the first generation to leave Baghdad, is shown still keeping the tradition. In his portrait, he is traditional garb, and we learn that he never learned to speak English. In the middle of the room are prominently displayed works of Jewish ceremonial art. Among them, two beautiful large Sephardi Torahs with finials from the mid-1700s.

The second generation is more integrated, beginning to move away from tradition and practice their faith much less. They did not share the same sense of tradition and community. In the Haggadah, the “wicked” child asks, “What does this service mean for you?” Use of the word “you” makes it clear that the questioning child has withdrawn from the community. Still, sacred manuscripts are displayed alongside other items. What is glaringly missing is the Codex Sassoon—the earliest and most complete Hebrew Bible. It was purchased by the family in the late 1880’s and was sold by a later generation. (The Codex Sassoon is set to be auctioned at Sotheby’s next month for an estimated $50M.)

The third generation is about adaptation. The third child in the Haggadah, who is depicted as the “simple” child asks, “What is this?” referring to the ritual of the Seder. The third generation is no longer informed in the tradition. Names like David and Rachel, Farha and Abdullah, become Arthur, Louise, Siegfried and Philip. Culture becomes more European, and intermarriage more common Some members of the family even convert to Christianity.

In the fourth generation, the Sassoons are fully assimilated. They no longer have a Jewish name. The fourth child depicted in the Haggadah is not even quoted. It is the child that “does not know how to ask” because of the lack of tradition. When they moved from the Ottoman Muslim world to the British Christian world, they started gathering British art and portraits, none with a connection to their tradition. No original vocabulary is heard. What began as a pragmatic alliance with British imperialism developed into a deeply felt identification and patriotic loyalty to British culture. Eventually, the Sassoons did not know they were Jews from Baghdad.

The exhibition is not overly large, but it is telling. From the earliest migration, the Sassoons seemed on a trajectory to assimilate. In the end, the family of international merchants traded Judaism for status within the British aristocracy. Whether it was a fair trade, only history can tell.

Happy month of Iyar…

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

Passover is just a week away — the spring holiday of new beginnings. For Jews, a new beginning always dovetails a previous episode. We are conflicted by hope for the future, and also harsh memories. Passover is one of those memorial days that evokes both, especially due to its proximity to Yom HaShoah, a week later. On both, we stop to reflect on the afflictions of our ancestors.

The Yellow Candle Project is a special way to cherish the memories of the victims of the Holocaust. Since its inception in 1981 by the Federation of Jewish Men’s Clubs, the project has spread to synagogues and Jewish communities around the world. It is a reminder of the Yellow Star that Jews were forced to wear. In keeping with the 24 hours of mourning on Yom HaShoah, the candle, too, will burn for 24 hours. Please join us on Zoom on April 17, the eve of Holocaust Memorial Day, when all of us will light our candles, in our homes, at the same time, in solidarity.

We assume that people know about the Holocaust and the evil that hate and intolerance produce. In the words of Elie Wiesel, “The Holocaust was a war against the Jews, but it was also a war against humanity. That is why the Holocaust must concern us all.” Another way to honor the victims and survivors is to visit a Holocaust museum. This year, our shul will donate all proceeds from the Yellow Candle Project to Greenport High School, which will use the funds to transport 10th-grade students to the Museum of Jewish Heritage in Manhattan. This is a noble cause for education.

On January 25 of this year, a few organizations came together to commemorate International Holocaust Remembrance Day at the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center in Glen Cove, NY.  It was a sign of interfaith solidarity, bringing together clergy of all faiths across Long Island. Dr. Don Russo offered a personal reflection on the importance of education. He told us that as a Catholic educator, he still asked himself, what do I know of Jews?  “It was not until the experience of one event that my eyes were opened,” he said, “that my understanding of Jews changed forever. I remember spending four hours on my first visit to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC.  The silence…and the listening within that deep silence.”

Part of the Glen Cove event was a tour of the museum. Even though I’ve visited Holocaust museums throughout my life, I always learn something new. This time, I learned one of the most gruesome details I’d ever encountered. I learned that the 1.5 million children who perished, represented 90% of the Jewish children who lived in Europe at the time. Imagine. We tend to think about the number of adults who were murdered. But the “final solution,” similar to Pharaoh’s edict in ancient Egypt, attacked the Jewish future through the children. My visit to Yad Vashem’s children’s museum last month in Jerusalem was yet more grim.

With the rise of antisemitism across our own nation and throughout the world today, we are reminded once again that not forgetting is not a choice.

I thank the Sisterhood and the Men’s Club of Congregation Tifereth Israel for organizing this important event. The key is education. The Yellow Candle Project serves as a reminder that the Holocaust was not a tragedy of just the Jewish people but, as Elie Wiesel pointed out, it was a tragedy for all of humanity. The Yellow Candle Project is a way to bring together people of all faiths and all backgrounds to remember the victims of the Holocaust, and to pledge to work toward a more peaceful, free, and tolerant world.

—Rabbi Gadi Capela