A Taste of Torah - Parashat B'ha'alotecha

I was a strangely patriotic child. On my night table, I had a little American flag that I could raise and lower on its miniature flag pole so that I could put it at half-staff when appropriate. I knew the words to countless patriotic anthems. Above my bed was a picture of President Kennedy. I was also the kid who would show up at my high school and remind the principal to lower the flag to half-staff on such occasions as the deaths of President Nixon and of Corporal Jamie Smith, an alumnus of my high school, who died in the 1993 Battle of Mogadishu. I was aware of Veterans Day, Pearl Harbor Day, Flag Day, and, of course, this coming Monday’s holiday of Memorial Day. But it wasn’t until I celebrated Israel’s Memorial Day during my first year of rabbinical school that I truly understood what Memorial Day could mean.

Unlike most Israelis’ experience, I have no immediate family members who had served in the military. Neither of my grandfathers served, both, I believe, because of medical reasons. Some of the other men of their generation in my family had, but they were people I either didn’t know or who had died before I was born. In Israel, Yom Hazikaron, Israel’s Memorial Day, is a somber day which begins with a siren that sounds for a solid minute, bringing Israel to halt. There are no barbecues, no sales, and no youth group trips to Valleyfair. We Americans would not recognize Memorial Day in Israel and Israelis would not recognize ours here.

We don’t often think about Monday’s holiday of Memorial Day as one with Jewish significance. But it is. In the hall outside this sanctuary are plaques memorializing members of this congregation who served in both World Wars and on Monday morning, there will be a memorial service at Temple Israel's cemetery. Jews have been part of the military in this country since before we were a country. One of the earliest examples, which you might have read in today’s “Ten Minutes of Torah” (from the URJ written by Kate Bigam) indicates that in 1655, Jews living in the colony of New Amsterdam fought a prohibition against their military service, gaining the right to enlist. Ever since then, Jews have served in the U.S. Armed Forces.

Still, few of us can name even two people serving our country today, unless you include the two members of our congregation whose names are listed under the prayer for peace on the back of the Shabbat service program. In an article published Wednesday in The Jewish Week, Gary Rosenblatt shares the story of Stephanie Koerner, a young Jewish woman who joined the ROTC program at Syracuse University in 2002. Since then she has served twice in Iraq. Her career choice had a profound impact on her rabbi, Gerald Skolnik. Rabbi Skolnik was a vehement opponent of the Vietnam War, but when Koerner deployed to Iraq, he had a change of heart. When she deployed, Rabbi Skolnik gave a sermon that apologized for his generation’s inability to separate the war from the soldier. Whether or not we agree with the wars we currently wage in Iraq and Afghanistan, we must remember that there is a difference between supporting the war and supporting the troops. For some of us, these go hand in hand. For all of us, the latter must be important.

Five years ago, the Reform Movement recognized our failure at supporting Jewish members of the Armed Forces. A resolution passed by our movement called upon our congregations and communities to provide for the needs of Jewish military chaplains, personnel, and their families. The resolution went on to encourage us to reach out to Jews on bases, on ships and in military hospitals. Just yesterday, I received an email about a Jewish chaplaincy position at the Minneapolis VA Medical Center.

It’s not only about the Jews serving our country, though. There are nearly 3 million men and women currently on active or reserve duty. As Hillel teaches in Pirke Avot (2:4), we are not to separate ourselves from the community. It is our responsibility to make sure that those who serve our country are not separated from our communities. Andrew Bernstein, a philosopher and novelist, writes, “To fully appreciate the virtue of our soldiers, we must remember what freedom means. It means we can choose our own fields of study, our own careers, our own spouses, the size of our families and our places of residence. It means we can speak out without fear regarding any issue—including governmental policy—choose our values, without interference from the state.”

Bernstein says it’s about remembering what freedom means. This is the essence of Memorial Day: remembering. In this week’s Torah portion, B’ha’alotecha, God commands us to make silver trumpets that will be used in order to summon the people when it is time to assemble or move into battle (Number 10:1-10). Twice, the passage alludes to the concept of remembering. The first tells us to sound the trumpets when we are at war with our enemies so that God will remember us and deliver us from our their hands. The second tells us that the trumpets themselves will serve as a reminder of us before God. It seems strange that God would need to be reminded of us.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik teaches that Judaism wants us to cry out aloud against injustice and unfairness, against the imperfections of the world in which we live. If we allow our own legitimate needs to go unmet, we will ignore the crying out of others. The calling out of the trumpets before engaging in battle is not just a battle cry, but a prayer to God. According to Soloveitchik, “Prayer tells the individual, as well as the community, what his, or its, genuine needs are, what he should, or should not, petition God about… God needs neither thanks nor hymns.” God wants to hear us cry out against the discord in our world.

Memorial Day provides us with an opportunity, a Jewish opportunity, to speak to the conflict in our world. We may agree with the way it is being solved or we may not, but we cannot, as Rabbi Skolnik did in the 60s, confuse the conflict with the soldier. The Talmud teaches us that the labors of our ancestors are a sign to us today (BT Sotah 34a). Our Torah portion tells us how our Israelite ancestors organized themselves and how they used the trumpets to move them forward. We, too, must be reminded of the need to move forward. Memorial Day reminds us of how our American ancestors labored for our freedoms today.

Wherever you find yourself on Monday – at the Memorial Day service at Temple Israel's cemetery, at a barbecue with friends, at Valleyfair with Temple's youth groups – find some time to remember those who fought and died for our country and our freedoms. Sound the trumpet so that God may remember them, as well. Rabbi Skolnik, inspired by his congregant, Stephanie Koerner, who chose to make a career of serving her country, penned the following prayer:

Ribbono Shel Olam! - Sovereign of the Universe!
We invoke Your blessings upon the members of our American military forces, those brave men and women whose courage and commitment to that for which this country stands protects us all.
Whether by air, land or sea, in the mountains of Afghanistan, the cities and deserts of Iraq, or wherever their orders take them, we ask, dear God, that they be protected within your sheltering presence. Shield them from harm and from pain, assuage their loneliness, and sustain their faith in the face of the formidable enemies that they confront on a daily basis. May all of their efforts be crowned with victory, and the assurance that we who depend on their courage appreciate and understand the great difficulty of their work.
Most of all, we pray what for all soldiers is the ultimate prayer - that they be privileged to return to the loving arms of their families and a grateful country safely, speedily, and in good health. Because of their courage, may we all be privileged to know and savor the blessings of true peace and security.

Oseh shalom bimromav hu ya’aseh shalom aleinu, v’al kol Yisrael, v’al kol yosh’vei teiveil, v’imru: Amen. May the One who makes peace in the high heavens make peace for us, all Israel and all who inhabit the earth, and let us say: Amen.