It was the will of Hashem to save a few survivors charged with reminding the many of the next generation: "Zachor al Tishkach • Remember — Do not forget!" We are approaching Yom Hashoah, the greatest Jewish tragedy of all time. It is a privilege to stand before you to remind you:
In April 1942 the diabolic Adolf Hitler announced "Die Juden werden nicht ein Purim nach mir feiern • The Jews will not celebrate Purim after me."
Up to 1945, about two million Jewish children in Europe were killed in gas chambers and cremated. The rest of us, mostly grown-ups, were enslaved in labor camps, died from starvation, or were shot.
When the British Army approached the area early in April 1945, the Gestapo emptied the camp where I was a prisoner. They stuffed us into cattle cars, about 80 Jews to car. Our destination was New Gammer, the beach area of Hamburg, where they planned to put us on a ferry that they would blow up after it got out to sea. Our destination was to be the bottom of the North Sea.
The British Airforce bombed and incapacitated the locomotive pulling our train, so we tried to escape. Of course the Nazis opened fire on us. Fewer than 10 out of the 260 Jews crammed into the cattle cars managed to survive. You can find more details about this incident in Chapter 11 of my recently-published "The Miracle of Survival."
One of the positive commandments in the Torah is: "Zachor Asher Assa Lechu Amalake • Remember what Amalek did to you — al Tishkach, Do not Forget!"
The Torah is telling us that after the Israelites crossed the Red Sea and began their long trek toward Canaan, their promised homeland, G-d preceded them in a pillar of cloud during the day, and in a pillar of fire at night. That allowed them to travel day and night. Despite this divine presence, they immediately ran into trouble. Desert gangs called the Amalekites attacked them.
This segment of the text ends: "Milchama Hashem Baamalake Midor • Hashem warred against Amalek through an entire generation." It seems that the Amalekite’s hatred for the Israelites stems not only from their legacy as Esau’s grandchildren, but from what that legacy represents: in those days the Amalekites represented the chief force of evil. Their aggression against the weak and defenseless Israelites showed them to be ruthless. They not only lacked the most elementary morality and decency but had genocidal intentions as well.
This marks the first attempt at genocide since the birth of the Nation. It did not succeed. Centuries later, Haman attempted to destroy the Jews, but he did not succeed, either. Then, most recently, the Nazis managed to wipe out one third of us!!
I do have a problem with the Hagada Seder Text: "Bechol Dor Vadoor Umdim Ulein Lachaloysent" [In every generation they tried to destroy us.] "Hakadish Boruch HU Matzilehnu Miyodom" [Hashem was always saving us].
I will accept the first part of the statement, but the second part stating that Hashem will always save us is questionable.
In the prayers of Shmah, we are told that if we observe the commandments we will prosper, otherwise we will suffer consequences. What did my generation do to deserve being murdered? What did those millions of innocent children do to deserve being gassed?
In this week’s parsha (Leviticus 10:1-3 ) we read about a similar unanswered question. The first time they held a service before the Lord, Aaron’s sons, Nadiv and Aviha, offered unholy fire. Fire then came out from the presence of the Lord and consumed them; they died before the Lord. On what ought to have been one of the happiest days in Israel’s history—the Inauguration of the tabernacle service—two of Aaron’s sons slipped up somehow in priestly procedure and as a result immediately died.
But wasn’t G-d being excessively severe to kill two novices simply because they’d made a procedural mistake? In my interpretation, the Hebrew Eish Zara suggests not an explanation but a question—it doesn’t mean that the fire came from outside the temple but that it is outside or beyond our grasp. It is inexplicable and incomprehensible.
In last week’s Torah reading Moses asked Hashem, "Hareinu eth Kevodechu." [Show me your modus vivendi.] The interpretation of the question was, in life we see that bad people prosper and the just suffer. Where is the heavenly justice? I would try to answer and reconcile the reality of life and the difficulties of the historic events introduced above.
We Jews have been charged to perform 613 Mitzvot, commandments. We must in fact physically perform 248 of these; the other 385 enjoin us to abstain from acting.
Two commandments do not belong either to the first category or to the second. The first commandment is to believe in the uniqueness of almighty G-d, a G-d of creation, of compassion and love, who acts beyond our understanding and reason. The second category consists of acts performed by people with evil inclinations who exercise their free will. They enjoy seeing others suffer.
The evil acts of the Amalekite gangs in attacking harmless Israelite civilians in the wilderness were the genesis of that sort of evil, which repeated itself in every succeeding generation. Thus the Torah commanded Jews: Remember do not forget; be prepared.
I would like to introduce my former fellow prisoner, Leo Egan, to express his feelings on the Holocaust. For the adults murdered, I will read his "How Many." For the gassed children I will recite his "Hershele" and "A Child Talks to G-d."
How many teachers will no more teach?
How many Rabbis will no longer preach?
How many doctors will no more heal?
How many hearts will no more feel?
How many children will no more grow?
How many farmers will no more sow?
How many mothers won’t the Sabbath candles light?
How many won’t hold their children tight?
How many voices will no longer sing?
How many children will never know spring?
................... [lines omitted]
Herschele, though nine years not completed,
Wants to be like a growing-up treated.
That time in the ghetto was hardly safe,
But he must try to be strong and brave.
When the Germans have him in their sights,
Hershele will try with all his might.
Though his life is filled with pain,
He must do what he can to avoid the train.
Both his parents he knows are dead,
And yet he has his life ahead.
Finally the day of judgment did arrive,
Would he perish or stay alive?
In the yard with the others he did assemble,
And tried his best not to tremble.
The German, his bloody hands with gloves did cover,
But Hershele’s trials were hardly over.
"How old are you?" the German asks.
Hershele the child puts on a mask.
"Of twelve years I’m just three weeks short."
The German answers with a snort.
"Where are your parents?" he asks the lad.
"Both of them sir, are sadly dead."
"You are telling a lie," the German insists.
And makes his point with both his fists.
The German then did hesitate,
In the midst of deciding Hershele’s fate.
Behind him the power of the German might,
But should he be sent left, or sent to the right?
Neither impulse seemed to be stronger,
Kill him now or let him live longer.
In the end he sent him through the door of life
But this was not the end of Hershele’s strife.
The boy lived on ‘til the ghetto was liquidated.
And then Hershele, like the others, was cremated.
Oh God, why am I here so soon?
I couldn’t even hold a spoon.
You Lord, forced me to talk
Before I could even walk.
Was I really so full of sin?
I barely could smile, I was mostly grim.
Didn’t something go very wrong?
At so early an age, surely here I don’t belong.
It looks like, Lord, no answer will you give,
And I cannot return and live.