The one that, in A.D. 70, became
"a permanent feature of Jewish life."
Despite daily prayers for almost 2,000
years that Jews be able to return to their traditional homeland. And now
another people says the land is their homeland, not the Jews'.
But there is a bigger Diaspora, one
that all of us are in.
How to describe it, to encompass it?
What to call it? (I dare not speak of how to end it.) It confuses
me.
It is the out-of-syncness of
humankind, our perverse relationship with all that has been created, animal,
vegetable, mineral, and, above all, our relationship or lack of one with each
other.
"To thee do we cry, poor banished
children of Eve;
to thee do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this vale of
tears."
Three years ago I spent two wonderful
weeks in Aleppo, Syria. Now I cringe to hear the bad news on the BBC.
More than 100,000 already dead, more to come. The oldest cities of
human history bombed to bits. A friend I made during that trip, the
Syriac Orthodox Archbishop of Aleppo, kidnapped two months ago with no hint as
to where he is. The seriousness of the kidnappers is confirmed, they
beheaded the Archbishop's driver at the time of the kidnapping
Two memories of my wonderful sojourn
in Aleppo. One is my last night before returning to New York, walking
down a quiet street lamp-lit backstreet tin the ancient Christian quarter.
I spot a door with-- can it be?-- a mezuzah on the doorpost. There
is absolutely no hint of even the slightest vandalism. (There have been
no Jews living in Aleppo since about 2003.). I felt in that lamplight that I
was in a dream.
The other memory. I met the
elderly mother of a deacon who was the personal secretary of the Archbishop.
She was a dear, kind, gentle old lady whose innocent hobby, keeping a
turtle on the terrace floor of her apartment, gave her much delight. The
turtle lived on a small amount of lettuce which she or her daughter fed it.
This week the deacon called me and mentioned that there is no more
turtle; food is short for humans in Aleppo.
This is also the week of the trial of
the alleged murderer of Trayvon Martin. There are no reports
of riots, of violence of any kind-- just deep, deep sadness. America has
saddened and surprised me. I dread to hear what is next on the BBC news.
Today is Tisha b'Av. "We
sit alone and weep."
Am I just in a bad mood? Is it because
of Tisha b'Av? Or is something very wrong? Think of fracking.
The risk to the water supply. And clothing costs in New York kept
down by polluting the water supply in Dacca. The Bangladeshi government
looks the other way, or must keep silent because powerful business officials
can force them to do so.
These are some of the things that are
on my mind. I want to climb out of this, but the climb must be based on
reality.
More next time, if you will.
