At the very beginning of the Torah, before creation even began, the world was tohu v’vohu, complete and utter chaos. Over the last few days, it feels as if we are living through a similar whirlwind. I want to name the fear, the worry, and the tears that I and many of you are feeling. May our siblings in Israel be comforted. May they be protected by a Sukkat Shalom in this New Year. May peace come quickly to Israel, Gaza, and the entire Middle East.
Since today is the Birthday of the
World, I think it’s fitting that we dig into the creation story.[i]
Most know this story well, so please help me.
The world according to the Torah was created in how many days? … Seven.
On the first day, God created light and …. Darkness. God than divided the waters. Up above, the
heavens and down below the … seas.
Afterwards, land and vegetation.
Sun, moon, and … stars. God
creates birds, fish, and animals. God
creates, men, women, people, at the same time, and shapes them B’tzelem
Elohim, in the Divine Image.
You know the story, except… there is a second creation story which is completely and totally different. This story has no timeline; no seven days. Creation begins not with light and darkness, but with the birth of a single human being named Adam. Adam is lonely so God creates animals. Adam remains lonely, so God puts Adam to sleep, takes one of his ribs, and makes Eve.
We have two stories with completely different timelines, unique ordering of creation, and distinct views of gender. Two stories, both in the Torah, literally side-by-side: Genesis chapter one and two. And… they don’t seem compatible. They don’t seem to work well together.
As you know, there is often difference of opinion in our Jewish tradition. There are countless biblical, rabbinic, and even current examples. This has been especially true in our community since October 7. Each of us, in our own way, has grieved the brutality of the Hamas attack and its aftermath. I want to share with you two very difficult conversations that I had last November. These meetings challenged me, and they might be hard for you to hear as well.
It was late in the afternoon when I sat down with a member of our community. Right away, I could sense her anger. Just weeks earlier, Israel had entered Gaza. She was furious at Israel’s reprisal and horrified by our Jewish community’s support. “Israel is killing innocent people, bombing hospitals and schools. We need a ceasefire. How can we back Israel’s actions?”
I said goodbye to her. Not long after, a second person walked in and immediately began to cry. She was consumed by the crisis. She doomscrolled, late into the evening, reading about the young Israelis who were murdered at the Nova Music Festival, the women who were raped by Hamas terrorists, and the hostages who were forcibly removed from their families. “I’m so sad,” she said. “I can’t help it. I just want them dead.”
After she left, I tried to gather my thoughts. I’ve had so many conversations this past year, but these meetings stick with me precisely because they occurred so near each other. Two unique beliefs about the conflict, and so different from one another. This sermon is an attempt to make sense of those conversations. This morning, I’ll be speaking about our relationship with the Palestinians. I know that Iran is on the minds of many of us, but that will be a topic for another sermon.
Let’s look back at our creation stories. How does our Jewish tradition navigate two stories in dissonance? One answer: focus on the good parts! You might laugh, but we do this all the time. Take those who are more Fundamentalist in their beliefs. They focus on the seven days of creation from the first story. But many of them believe in a man’s role in a patriarchal society. They lift-up the second story’s belief that Eve was created from Adam’s rib; that women are lesser than men.
You will never hear that here! In a Reform synagogue, we lift-up the first creation story. We believe that all of us, no matter our gender identity, were formed at the same time, B’tzelem Elohim, in the Divine Image.
This is what we do when two stories clash with each other. We chose the truth that feels at home with our identities and our values. We pick the narrative that makes the most sense to us, that connects to our history, and which highlights our understanding of the world.
As a Jewish community, it’s important for us to know and share our story, especially around Israel. There are few people who tell our story with more empathy and compassion than Yossi Klein Halevi. This summer during my sabbatical, I read his 2019 book, “Letters to My Palestinian Neighbor.” Over the course of these ten letters, he shares the importance of Israel to Jewish consciousness, not just now, but over the course of our long history,[ii] reminds the reader that Zionism drives Jewish life today because half the Jewish people live in Israel,[iii] and shares that unlike groups like the Crusaders, Israelis are here to stay. This is our homeland.[iv]
I was especially moved by Klein Halevi’s vulnerability. He writes movingly about the existential challenges he faced serving in the army during the first intifada.[v] He felt great pain as the Israeli army encountered young Arab boys throwing stones. He didn’t shy away from the occupation and recognized the humiliation it brings to the Palestinian people.
Yossi Klein Halevi reminds us that our Jewish story, in the diaspora and in Israel, is historical, valid, and authentic. Many of us are often so troubled by the Israeli government’s actions that we shy away from our story or limit its significance. Our story is true. We must not minimize our history or Israel’s right to exist.
But this is not the only story. This summer, I also read Rashid Khalidi’s 2020 book, “The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine.” Let me tell you, this was not an easy read. Khalidi, a professor at Columbia University, is part of a long line of diplomats and Palestinian leaders. In this book, Khalidi defines six different wars against his people beginning in 1917 and ending in 2014. How challenging as a Jew and a Zionist to read history through his eyes. I was troubled that the Balfour Declaration in 1917 as well as Israel’s Independence in 1948 were viewed as acts of war. Most surprisingly, not one page was written about the Yom Kippur War. I came to realize that for Khalidi the Yom Kippur War had no bearing on Palestinian history. For him, this was a skirmish between Israel and Egypt.
These two books, by Yossi Klein Halevi and Rashid Khalidi, gave me heartache! The Torah provides us with the wisdom that multiple stories with unique perspectives can exist together. But still I was stuck. I needed support from a chevrutah, a rabbinic colleague and good friend.
This summer, the two of us spent four days together delving into the Israeli – Palestinian Crisis. We studied five books together, but spent most of our discussing, “Side by Side: Parallel Histories of Israel-Palestine” written by a group of Israeli and Palestinian academics in 2012. Their dream was to develop a single bridging narrative about the Middle East. Unfortunately, it was too difficult to come to consensus on the facts or the history. [vi] Instead, they decided to write two separate histories. The left side of the book is written by Israelis. The right side of the book by Palestinians. Two histories, literally side by side.
I would dive into the Jewish perspective, and it was everything that I was taught as a child and an adult. But, when I turned to the Palestinian narrative, I was dumbfounded. How could the same historical events be understood in a completely different manner?
Here’s just a handful of examples: In the 1920’s was it an “Arab mob” or an “Arab uprising?”[vii] Did the Jews settle upon “abandoned land” or “confiscated land?”[viii] Was it a War of Independence or a Nakba, a catastrophe? Was the Six Day War in 1967 provoked by Egypt or was Israel the aggressor pining to take over more Palestinian land?[ix] Who was at fault during the 1990’s peace process, Israel or Arafat?
It wasn’t just me who was challenged
by this book. An Israeli teacher,
Rachel, who used “Side by Side” as a textbook in her classroom, summed it up
this way:
“When I saw the narrative of the other side, first I was angry and frustrated at how different it was from ours. I felt it was not based on facts but on stories and emotions. Later, I learned to cognitively accept the difference, but still felt that our narrative was superior to theirs. Only recently did I learn to see the logic behind their narrative and even to emotionally feel empathy to what they went through. If this took me four years, imagine what it will take the pupils or their parents.”[x]
The writers of “Side by Side” believe that the first step in comprehending another narrative is mourning. At this moment, we are raw. Many of us are angry and unwilling to hear a differing perspective. This week, we commemorate the yahrtzeit of October 7. We must mourn. We mourn the loss of life, the terror, and the fragility of Israeli society. As the uncertainty continues, we might be mourning for a long time to come. It took Rachel four years. How long could it take us?
I know this will be painful, but there is work ahead for us to do. Yossi Klein Halevi believes that the main obstacle to peace is the inability to hear each other’s stories. That’s why he offered his book in Arabic for free downloading.[xi] While Rashid Khalidi shares this message, “The irony is that, like all peoples, Palestinians assume that their nationalism is pure and historically rooted while denying the same of Israeli Jews.”[xii] Mutual acceptance is the only path forward and must be based on complete equal rights and national rights.[xiii]
As we begin this New Year, our world is tohu v’voho, complete and utter chaos. There is real fear of a war with Iran. We pray with all of our hearts for Israel’s safety and security. At the same time, we must not forget that there is a land where two peoples live, with two stories, and two truths. Even in the midst of a larger Middle East conflict, even as we sit in sorrow and anger, we must be willing to inch towards peace with the Palestinian people. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon.
May we learn from Israeli and
Palestinian authors. May we talk to
those who differ in their perspective from us.
May we share our story and feel proud and confident in our narrative. May we do our best to hold multiple
truths. May we always work to write a
new story of hope, peace, and mutual understanding. A story of two states, Jewish and Arab,
Israel and Palestine. A story where the
hostages come home, where children can be safe, and laughter can be heard in
the streets of Tel Aviv and Gaza City. Ken Yehi Ratzon. May it be so, Amen.
[i] In
appreciation to Rabbi Marci Jacobs, whose essay in “Am Yisrael Chai: Essays,
Poems, and Prayers,” edited by Rabbi Menachem Creditor, pp. 266-274, helped
center the story of creation as one of the centering texts of this sermon. Her beautiful essay guides the reader through
narratives that are in conflict with one another.
[ii] “Letter
to My Palestinian Neighbor,” by Yossi Klein Halevi, p 34
[iii] “Letters,”
p. 43
[iv] “Letters,”
p. 69
[v] “Letters,”
p. 108-109
[vi]
“Side by Side Parallel Histories of Israel-Palestine,” edited by Sami Adwan,
Dan Bar-On, Eyal Naveh, and Peace and Research Institute in the Middle East
(Prime), p. X
[vii] “Side
by Side,” pp. 32-33
[viii]
“Side by Side,” pp. 51
[ix] “Side
by Side,” p. 191
[x] “Side
by Side,” p. xiv
[xi] “Letters,”
p. xi
[xii] The
Hundred Years’ War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and
Resistance, 1917-2017,” by Rashid Khalidi, p. 246
[xiii] “The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine,” pp. 245-246
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