Monday, Iyar 1, 5779 - May 6, 2019; Blessed, happy, healthy, productive, successful Monday to all!

Live from the Ramot library in Ramot Bet, Jerusalem, Israel!

Good morning, everyone! Here's wishing each and every one of you a blessed, enjoyable, lovely week ahead!!

Imagine walking home from your weekly shopping at the local supermarket and a blaring siren intersects with the traffic, the bird songs, and the construction along your path . . . . This is what I encountered last Thursday, May 2, 2019 at 10:00 AM. The cars pulled over to the side, and their passengers disembarked and stood alongside them for the duration of the blaring siren. I stopped in my tracks, sad . . . and proud. Here I was in Jerusalem, the capital of the State of Israel, the Jewish state, on Yom Ha'Shoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. What an honor and privilege! What a blessing! Some one-third of my people, the Jewish people, perished during the Shoah! Millions others also died due to the Nazi hatred and brutality.

We, the living, must remember!

We, the living, must work at fighting bigotry wherever its ugly head arises!

"To bigotry no sanction; to persecution no assistance"--Washington, George in his letter to the Jews of Newport, Rhose Island, 1790.

My friends, please speak out against anti-Semitism, racism, Christophobia, sexism, homophobia, and Islamophobia.

When my older daughter Cheli (Rachel) was four years old, she had a nightmare which she shared with her mother and me. Subsequently, I wrote the following poem.

"A Chimerical Spill"

Alaska's and the Gulf's catastrophic spills

raise fear in the minds of every ecologist;

notwithstanding,

. . . from four-year-old granddaughter Cheli's mouth

forms the question told

in history, "Didn't

Grandma Rushkah

want to hold me?"

Before an edifying retort

could be formulated, a

more incredulous question

erupted, Why did the

Nazis kill Grandma's

ima and abba?" In disbelief

stand Cheli's parents as

she continues, "Yes,

last night in our conversation

Grandma mentioned

she couldn't be held, too!"

--Nitzarim, Yoel. Affair of the Mind, A Literary Quarterly, Vol. 1, Issue 4, The Limited Edition; ed. Tracy Lyn Rottkamp, Rottkamp Publishers, 1998.

Now back to my play, When Unlikely Faces Encounter Memory

Scene vii

[[Helga speaks softly to Reverend Helfzinger, who is in solitary confinement in a very dark, dank underground cell. The irritating sound of flies can be heard in the background.]

Rev. Helfzinger (Speaking in almost inaudible tones.): My dear, thank you for coming to visit me.

Helga (A long silence.): Why, Pastor, do you know me?

Rev. Helfzinger (Mutters very quietly.): Yes, I do. I have seen your photograph in the Berliner Morganpost. You look exactly the same as in your picture. We have so little time together. Here. Take this note I wrote for you when I heard that you were coming to visit me. Come visit me next week at the same time, please. (falls asleep.)

Voice quavering and hands trembling, Helga haltingly reads the note aloud:

What has happened to our precious homeland? What has happened to our humanity? Has it left us forever? Has it fled from our L-rd Who is in Heaven? Oh. Jesus, I beg you not to forget us--even with our pitiable actions. O Father, guide us into a better life. Open our eyes to the suffering of our brothers and sisters under You, O L-rd. Show us Your Face, Your Way, Tour Word. (Tears sliding down her face and voice cracking, pitch intensifying.) Stop us from our evil ways. Or stomp us out from the world forever. Don't let us create Sodom and Gamorrah a second time. Almighty, perhaps we went against Your will when we thought that our German past was the best and could be made even better than any culture or civilization. Hear my modest plea. He me, O L-rd. Touch our lives with Your Dearest love. Ley Your graciousness graze our oitiable countenances. I implore You to forgive us our iniquities and indiscretions. We are wayward children, our wantonness may still be checked by Your intervention. It is not too late. It is never too late. As long as there is life. . . . Please take my life as a down payment. I could rest much easier with the satisfaction that at the least my life represented a second chance for these young people here in Germany. We have a long history of loyalty to Your Word, my L-rd. I . . . I know that in Heaven You hear my plea. Please for the sake of Your creation, heed my cry. (She drops the note, hangs her head, closes her eyes, lips tight, shoulders sagging, legs bent in despair. A female child's and a male child's voices declaim the following poem from offstage.)

Our Soul of Souls

In our soul of souls we are not different at all

For in our soul of souls we harbor a heart of humanity

In our soul of souls we long for peace with our L-rd

Yes, in our soul of souls we sing songs of eternity.

In our soul of souls like us or not, we are

For in our soul of souls compassionate feelings make us

Truly

Human

In our soul of souls remediate time's scars

Yes, in our soul of souls the spirit values the deed prudent.

In our soul of souls we live not only for ourselves, but for

Others

For in our soul of souls we know

The One Without A Name Leads us

In our soul of souls one knows to praise another

Yes, in our soul of souls everyone realizes a good name and

Abundance.

When human nature has found its way

When people here in Germany accept their humanity as that which

Belongs to a race of the Multitudes

When differences and conflict no longer sway

That's when peace on earth will replace malice with

Wonder.

[May 27, 1945. One week latter again in the pastor's lonely cell in Flossenbuerg. The sound of flies has diminished dramatically. Helga stands in trepidation in the doorway of Reverend Helfzinger's dark, dark room.]

Rev. Helfzinger (Matter of factly.): The morrow will convey my end. I am ready to join my L-rd. My life is completely His. Every thought, feeling, and idea from sensation to wonderment will pass with me to G-d's dominion. I am awestruck by each passing moment.

Helga (Eyes drooping, looking down.): What have they told you?

Rev. Helfzinger: Death by hanging. I'm not afraid, though I'm only thirty-nine years old. I have spoken up. I have rebelled against my upbringing to accept the State under all circumstances. Unfortunately, I won't be able to continue helping to improve the situation in this world. Nevertheless, I look forward to being with our Savior.

Helga: I don't know what to say. It's unfair. You're a good man. Why should you be martyred? You spoke your mind. You called on your conscience . . .and ours!

Rev. Helfzinger: It's all right. My death will bring me closer to Him. It is like a real Eucharist. It is giving my human body to the Christ.

Helga: No! Human beings are here to honor life: not to surrender to death in the hopes that we will be all that much closer to our Maker. I want to revere my life as a gift. Why can't you see that?

Rev. Helfzinger: What choice do I have? I will be hanged tomorrow. They have beaten me, and soon they will take my life. I am only a man, a fragile creation of G-d's.

Helga: There is not any compromise on this point: life is the sacred gift in the universe. It must be cherished, it must be defended at all cost, it must be exalted now and in the everlasting.

Rev. Halfzinger: As Christians, we look forward to the hereafter. Of course, this world is so very important; notwithstanding, our lives are lived in the humble, modest belief that our goodness here will enable us to follow graciously, mercifully in the world to come.

Helga: My life is in the here and now. What happens in the future I cannot predict. No one can. I want to make this world--my only world I can reckon--so much better than it is now. I want to make the lives of those suffering better . . .if possible to save as many of them as I can. Life is hope. It is our imagination that makes it possible to transcend the moment. Our every moment lives in what we make of it. And that understanding only we humans can grasp enables us to make our maek in the present. Reverend: appeal, resist, fight.

Rev. Helfzinger: My daughter, I am but a meek vulnerable soul on his way to another place. Tommorow at this time I will be with Him in His place. My time is done here. In my case, evil has taken precedent out of whatever good I have endeavored to carry out in my small way in this world. I am not sorry. Please don't you be. Maybe between us, just between us, the prophet Hosea's prediction can come to fruition: When Jacob and Esau unite, the Jewish people will gather into the nations of Jesus, the Christ. (Takes her right hand in his and kisses it ever so lightly.)

Helga (Sniffling, her head on his right shoulder.): I can't be at one with you and your belief. I'll never be someone I'm supposed to be. I am supposed to be a Christian woman. That was the plan my family had when I was born. I was supposed to lead a good, decent, honest, G-d-fearing life here in Germany. I was supposed to take part in what was right . . . and only make it better. I was supposed to raise a good Christian family. And then Adolph Hitler and his henchmen entered the scene. And then . . . then the world lost its meaning, it soul, its will to be. And then Death took over. So long good. So long bad. So long life as we knew it, or even life as we know it. I can't recognize life anymore. Now Evil rules. Evil dictates. Evil runs the show. No more. . . no more. . . no more. . . (Sighs.)

Rev. Helfzinger: Helga, I can't let you depart this way. Do you know why I summoned you to meet with me before I died?

Helga (Unable to gain composure.): I . . .I can't imagine. My life is such a mess. I can hardly look anyone in the face. With all of the deep conviction I have with regard to my faith, how can I continue in the world? Please help me understand.

Rev. Helfzinger (Faintly smiling and taking hold of Helga in his arms.): I love you. You are a good woman, a fine person. Don't be afraid. With all the suffering in this world around us, we are getting prepared for everlating life with Jesus and our Father. Bring quiet to your heart and soul. Recite the Our Father with me.

Helga (With sudden determination and hope in the modulation of her voice):

Pastor,

I would prefer to pray the prayer Jews pray after the recitation of the Shma,

the V'ahavtah.

Christians believe as the Jews that G-d is one.

Truly we belive that.

As of late, I have trouble going beyond that to believing in the godhead: The Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit.

My heart tells me that the Messiah has yet to arrive, that He has not yet come before us.

There has been just too much deceit since the start of human history: too much death and destruction.

I want to wait for the Messiah.

The world needs the Messiah.

With all my heart, my soul, and my might I hold on to my faith that He will come if we pray hard enoughm if we worl to make this world a better place, if we just become deserving children.

I am seeing a rabbi to assist me with the winnowing of my faith. Our time together has been so rewarding and life changing, Reverend And yet, as a man of cloth, you must understand my dilemma.

My husband is a horrible man. Lefe has lost all meaning to him. His religion holds human life in contempt. His entire demeanor has stamped out all reason and human sensibility. Even his facial configuration has taken on harsh, livid dimensions.

Rev. Helfzinger (Takes both of Helga's hands in his.): All right. Let's intone both hymns. I believe in addressing the love of my life: the one G-d. I know that He hears all prayers from all faiths, from every human being. You, dear woman, must continue to believe in Him. You must remember that whatever religion you choose to follow, His watchful eyes will lead you. You will never be alone because He needs you as much as you need Him.

Helga (Lays her head on the Reverend's shoulder.): You are so strong! How is that?

Rev. Helfzinger: Meister Eckhart once asserted that life is life: we make a life from the life we have; we live the life that we create. Each life exacts its life source as it engenders the length of its days. I am not so strong; I strongly believe in the living G-d. Now it is His will to receive me, so I rejoice in His will.

Helga (A long sigh, whispers.): May His will be done in peace.

___________________________________________________________________

The following poem possibly sums up today's lesson from the Holocaust:

"Is it not a HUMAN thing?"

How deeply is my heart

locked

inside me;

if only the heavenly

afflatus would surface at this time, this place . . .NOW

Let that which I am not able to cope with

be dealt with in a way which is

understandable to me.

THE SACREDNESS OF THE SPIRIT IS:

IT NEED NOT BECOME.

Full-well those depths of a living, knowing

being scream out to that other ONE: in storms

whose confusion redounds at once with the glories

sought out from withoput MY WORLD, yea even encompassed

by turmoil, I will live to become a real member, true to

the human race.

ONLY LET ME KNOW WHEN THE TIME ARRIVES

SO THAT

THE ONLY SHARING OF MY WHY IS. . .

A REALITY TO ME!

OH FULGOR RESTING AT THE

BASE OF THIS SOUL:

ARISE FROM YOUR TOO LONG REST

BURNISHING ME TO THEE.

Surety unattainable. . . of my actions am I known

in increments

though veiled

identifiable to others, also to me.

Here

there is much more than there is not;

yet we inhabit

a sidereal planet

an eye + L + &,

abounding in prayers' summons. . . .

Life's human questions--incomprehensible

largely unassailable--

beget

daily wrestling at Beth-el.

Each human chooses

whether

birth's duties

supercede

contemporary freedom.

Ibid., Vol. 2, Issue 3.

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I will return to Linked-in on Monday, May 20, 2019.