AJFCA > September 12, 2001

September 12, 2001

Rabbi Simkha Y. Weintraub, Rabbinic Director of JBFCS’ NYJHC & NCJH, prepared the following document. Please use it and pass it on as indicated.

Several rabbis, social workers, educators, and other community members have contacted the National Center for Jewish Healing asking for Jewish spiritual resources in response to yesterday’s tragedies and horrors, as we hopefully begin to somehow move ahead, to cope and recover. What follows are some ideas to consider; please look at them in conjunction with some of the clinical material we are circulating so that these texts and rituals work in concert with, and support of, our mental health goals.

I. Psalms
For thousands of years Jews have turned to Psalms in times of distress. These seven psalms form a cluster that Jews have read, chanted, and studied when the community itself was threatened:

Psalms 20, 38, 85, 86, 102, 130, 142 Please note that our tradition offers us the Psalms as a flexible resource – one may turn to them, for example, alone or in small groups, as well as in large assemblies. Consider your own community’s profile, needs, and customs in planning how you will utilize the psalms. For example: -- Some communities may want/need to study/analyze the psalms, in a cognitive and intellectual manner, exploring difficulties and tackling problems in interpretation;
-- Some communities may find it helpful and comforting to approach the psalms in a rhythmic, musical, (perhaps antiphonal or responsive) less academic way.
-- Some communities may find catharsis and meaning in saying the psalms in a rote manner.
-- For some you may want to select certain phrases/lines, discuss them a bit and then create a group mural or a collection of individual visual illustrations of the words or verses, for display and comfort.
-- Consider composing original psalms, perhaps taking a line from a "real" psalm and expanding it into a personal and heartfelt poem/prayer. For many, writing is an important tool in healing the spirit, and images from the event, as well as more individuals, personal metaphors can contribute to potent compositions. Besides these seven, the Psalm that we have been saying since Rosh Hodesh Elul, Psalm 27, is most helpful with this trauma, with a number of very relevant and compelling messages and at least a few songs to chant (start with the words and devolve into a niggun; give yourself time.)

Here’s my translation:

Psalm 27

A Psalm of David

1. Adonai is my Light and my Help;
        whom will I fear?
    Adonai is the Strength of my life;
        who can make me afraid?

2. When evil people draw near to devour my flesh --
it is these foes and enemies who stumble and fall.

3. Even if an army rises up against me,
        my heart will have no fear!
    Even if a whole war besets me,
        I will still feel secure.

4. One thing I ask from Adonai,
        one thing I seek:
            to dwell in Adonai's house all the days of my life,
            to gaze upon the beauty of Adonai,
            to explore Adonai's sanctuary.

5. Adonai will shelter me in a Sukkah
        on an evil day;
    Adonai will conceal me in the secret shelter of a tent,
        raise me up safely upon a rock.

6. My head is high above my enemies around me;
I sacrifice in Adonai's tent, to the blasts of trumpets,
singing and chanting a hymn to Adonai!

7. Adonai -- sh'ma/hear my voice when I call!
Have mercy on me and respond!

8. You seek my heart,
My heart seeks You --
I seek Your Presence.

9. Do not hide Your Face from me;
        Do not turn Your servant away in anger!
        You have always been my Help
            so do not abandon me, do not forsake me,
                my God, my Saving One.

10. Even if my father and mother abandoned me,
Adonai would gather me in.

11. Teach me Your ways, Adonai,
Guide me on a straight and level path,
because of my watchful enemies.

12. Do not hand me over to my foes;
        ignore the false witnesses and unjust accusers
        who rise up against me,
        breathing violence!

13. I believe I will yet see Adonai's Goodness
in the Land of Life.

14. Hope in Adonai!
Be strong inside, and let your heart be brave!
Yes, yes, hope in Adonai!

**********

A-hat sha-al-ti, mei-eit A-doh-nai,
O-tah a-va-kesh:

Shiv-ti b'vet A-doh-nai
Kol y'may ha-yai,
La-ha-zot b'no-am, b'no-am A-doh-nai,
U-l'va-kerr b'hei-kha-lo.

One thing I ask from Adonai,
one thing I seek:

to dwell in Adonai's house all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of Adonai,
to explore Adonai's sanctuary. (Psalms 27:4) Finally, I was so struck while davvening this morning how the Psalm for Wednesday (Psalm 94), also contains powerful expressions related to the experience of disaster and the search for healing and direction.

II. Ritual
Just to give one idea: Candle-lighting and sitting with candles silently may be of interest and support, representing both memory (the past, what has been lost) and hope (the future, a commitment to life.) (Reminder: Please take all fire safety precautions seriously.)

Here are a few lines from Psalms that may serve as appropriate kavvanot/meditations:

Adonai is my Light and my Salvation – whom will I fear?
Adonai is the Strength of my life – whom can make me afraid?
Psalm 27:1

With You is the source of life;
In Your light do we see light.
Psalm 36:10

It is You who lights my candle;
Adonai, my God, illumines the darkness.
Psalm 18:29

For You have saved me from death,
O yes, my foot from stumbling,
That I may walk in the presence of God,
In the light of life.
Psalm 56:14

III. M’kom Nehamah: A Place for Comfort
Does your synagogue or JCC have a place – say, a lounge or library area – that can be designated as a place to go for Jewish comfort? Consider having appropriate music, "open door" hours set for discussions (with a capable facilitator and at least one or two mental health professionals present), and religious and natural objects whose presence/association may bring solace (e.g., candelabra, rocks and seashells, Israeli woven/embroidered cloth, sacred texts, etc. etc.)

IV. Tz’dakah
In times of crisis, not only is much help needed, but we all need to help. Whether your community creates its own fund to assist individuals who have been directly impacted, or support the Red Cross and/or other public agencies that are helping victims/survivors, this is a most important Jewish spiritual response.

V. The Parshah/Weekly Torah Portion
To be sure, the Yamim Noraim/High Holidays will offer much material for reflection, study, and discussion. But, in the next 3-4 days, we may want to draw on the parshah for sustenance, for particular nuggets of inspiration or guidance. Some very quick possibilities:

Atem nitzavim hayyom (Deut. 29:9): We are standing this day – gratitude and responsibility, one day at a time.

Lo bashamayim hi…ki karov eylekha hadavar m’od b’fikha uvilva’vkha la’asoto. (Deut. 30: 12-14): As per Ibn Ezra, the Torah is speaking of three aspects of commitment, the mouth, the heart, and the performance. We need to begin with speech, with expression, moving into what’s in our hearts, and translating it all into deeds.

Uvaharta bahayyim l’ma’an tihyeh atah v’zar’ehkha (Deut. 30:19) We are commanded to choose life, for ourselves and for those who come after us.

VI. Stories
There is, of course, no perfect Jewish story, certainly no one story that is universally helpful to all audiences and groups, at times like this. Probably the best thing is to allow people to tell their own stories – about what they, themselves have experienced. During this time, be sure to try and collect stories of people helping one another, and about people drawing on deep reserves of hessed and hope, despite the terror, devastation, and rage. These are important to tell and re-tell, as are stories about what helped people, before, through trying times.

Here is one story that may be of help:

Rabbi Elhanan’s Parable of the Farm

Introductory Note:

Rabbi Elhanan Wasserman, the great European Rosh Yeshivah (Head of a major Jewish learning center) and Torah scholar, was killed in the Kovno ghetto in 1941, after risking a return to Poland in 1939 from the U.S. in order to care for his students during those most trying times.

Among the first American troops to liberate the death camps was First Lieutenant Meyer Birnbaum, an Orthodox Jew who labored heroically to save lives and bring comfort to the starving survivors. One day in Buchenwald, a gaunt Jewish survivor approached Birnbaum and asked him if he had heard of Rabbi Elhanan. Lt. Birnbaum told him that he had, indeed, known of Rabbi Elhanan from his United States visit in 1938-39.

Gratified to find such a fellow Jew, the survivor told Lt. Birnbaum that he had been with the Rabbi during the final days in Kovno, and that during that frightful period, fellow fugitives had asked the Rabbi to explain why these horrors were befalling them. Rabbi Elhanan responded with this parable:

Once a "citified" man who knew next to nothing about agriculture approached a farmer and asked to be taught about farming. The farmer led him to his field and asked him what he saw.

"Beautiful land…lush grass…so pleasing to the eye," the visitor responded, and then stood aghast as the farmer plowed the grass under and turned the flowing green field into a choppy mass of brown ditches.

"Why did you ruin the field!?" the man demanded.

"Patience. You’ll see," said the farmer.

The farmer then showed his guest a sackful of plump kernels of wheat, and said,

"Tell me what you see."

The visitor described the nutritious, inviting grain, and then watched in shock as the farmer seemed to ignore their beauty and wholesomeness, and, as he walked up and down the furrows, dropped the kernels and covered them with clods of soil.

"Are you out of your mind?" the man demanded. "First you destroy the field, and now you ruin the kernels?"

"Patience. You’ll see."

Time passed, and once more the farmer took his guest out to the field. This time they saw endless, straight rows of green stalks sprouting up from each of the furrows. The visitor smiled.

"I apologize, my friend. Now I understand what you were doing. The field is, indeed, more beautiful than ever. The art of farming is truly remarkable."

"No," said the farmer, "We’re not done yet. Patience."

More time went by and the stalks were fully-grown. The farmer came with great gusto and a large, sharp sickle, and vigorously chopped them all down, as the visitor watched in horror, the orderly field becoming a vast mound of destruction. In time, he was somewhat relieved to see the farmer bound the fallen stalks into large bundles and decorate the field with them – but later he took the bundles to another place and beat and crushed them until they were just a mass of straw and loose kernels. Then, he separated the kernels from the chaff and piled them up in a huge hill.

Throughout, he told his protesting visitor from the city; "We are not done. You must be patient…. more patience."

The farmer came with his wagon and piled it high with grain, driving it to the mill. There, the beautiful grain was ground into formless, choking dust.

"You’ve taken grain and made it into dirt!"

"Patience. Patience."

The farmer put the dust into sacks and took it back home. He mixed some with water so that, at least to the visitor, it resembled white mud. The farmer shaped the "mud" into a loaf, a beautifully formed one at that – which made the visitor smile. But not for long – for the farmer fired up a raging oven and put the loaf into it.

"Now I know you are insane. After all this hard work, you’re going to burn it?"

"Certainly I have told you before to be patient."

Finally, the farmer opened the oven and removed the freshly baked bread, crusty and brown, with an aroma that made the visitor’s mouth water.

"Come," said the farmer, leading him to the kitchen, where they washed hands, said a blessing, cut the bread, and enjoyed several liberally buttered slices.

"Now," said the farmer, "Now you understand."

Adapted from Tishah B’Av – Texts, Readings and Insights, compiled by Rabbi Avrohom Chaim Feuer and Rabbi Shimon Finkelman (Brooklyn, NY: Mesorah Publications, Ltd., 1992)

VII. Silence
Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel’s teaching about the health-value of silence (Pirke Avot 1:17) is all the more true in times of trauma and recovery. People need "down time" more than ever, especially with all the blaring (even re-traumatizing) media, demanding conversations, things to attend to, etc., etc. Make time for silence, and incorporate some silent moments in any assembly, for people to breathe, pray, reflect, or just sit in safety and community. You may have to frame this as a Jewish imperative for people who are not used to sitting in silence in Jewish contexts, and may need to "book-end" the silent time with readings or niggunim/wordless chants.