Parashat Behalotcha — 25 May 2013–16 Sivan 5773

Back in my university days, I was fond of French social history. It was the “History of the Daily Life”, histoire de la vie quotidienne. Those scholars were not interested in battles and wars, but rather they were fascinated by the lives of the people. Their researches were about, for example, the alimentary regime in Oliver Cromwell’s Army: who mainly ate fish. Or the circulation of perfumes among French nobility, in the 18th century: not that much Enlightened and, apparently, quite stinky.

For having read that sort of books, I find fascinating chapt 10 of Leviticus, a part of our Torah reading, that is about the hazoz’rot, the silver trumpets. It is a list of when and how the cohanim had to sound those trumpets, to summon the community and set them in motion, and how to blow the trumpets to have the community assembling in a way, and how to blow the same trumpets when the community has to assemble in another way etc.

Given my background, I wonder how these hazoz’rot, these trumpets, did sound.

I would like to have a detailed description, or even better, to listen to a recording: of that long blast that summoned the Israelites to assemble. Or of that short blast that set them in motion.

There is probably something similar in our contemporary Jewish life, the shofar, whose sound is familiar to us. Like the shofar’s, the sound of the hazoz’rot was composed by t’ruas, sh’varims, and t’ekyahs. Actually, we find exactly these words in our Torah reading.

The shofar was blown at the beginning of the Yovel, the Jubilee year, proclaiming freedom for the slaves. It was a joyous sound.

Shofar’s sound is beautiful. It is the sound of the creation of the world, as we know because we go on shul on Rosh ha Shana, the birthday of the world.

What about the trumpets, then? Our Torah reading associates them with joy, at v. 10: “on your joyous occasions –your festivals and Rosh Hodesh- you shall sound the trumpets …” But their main association is with pain and angst. Hazoz’rot were blown at the beginning of every new stage of the wandering in the desert. They were blown, especially, during the battles, when the Israelites were under attack. The sound of these trumpets was a sound of war.

We hear, in these days, sounds of war.

I am referring to the horrendous attack that last Wednesday, in London, took away the life of a young Army drummer. By now we all have even seen, the horrifying images of the murderer. A British born, British educated, British citizen brandishing a knife and shouting Allah Akhbar, “God is great!” This is probably the most horrifying of all the details: that the murderer thought he was acting in the name of God. He thought he was performing a religious duty, by killing another human being, a husband and a father. How can a human being conceive such a slaughter, murder and killing of another human being, in the name of God?

Let me be extremely clear. Judaism knows a lot about war. We have read a portion of our Holy Book which includes rules, laws and precepts regarding war. The hazoz’rot, these trumpets, that so much fascinated me, was heard in joyous times, and in times of war. We Jews are commanded to pursue peace, but we do not deny that certain times there are no alternatives to war.

So it is not the act of war that is horrifying. What is horrendous is that such an act is pursued as an act of faith, as a religious duty.

There are followers of an ancient and respectable religion, Islam; a religion that has more than one passing similarity with Judaism. But out there, in this Country, God forbid!, maybe in this city, there are followers of such a religion who believe is their religious duty to move the war to the British people. Among whom (what a surprise!) to us, British Jews, or Jews who live in Great Britain.

We knew, already: just give a glance to the past years of the Jewish press, The Jewish Chronicle, or Jewish News. You’ll see how, from a long time, the Jewish community is expressing concerns regarding the growth of Islamism in England. Long before then the BBC or the Guardian, just to name two examples.

But because we are people of faith, and because we are acutely aware of this problem, we should not allow hate to prevail. We should not demonize a whole faith, a whole religion, for the terrorist acts of some of its members.

We ought not to forget that for centuries Jews have been persecuted by Christian mobs and protected by Muslim rulers, especially in the Ottoman Empire. We, particularly we, members of Brighton and Hove Reform Synagogue, know that while the Germans, the Christian born and educated German soldiers, were chasing Jews all around Europe, a Muslim kingdom, Albania, has opened its gates to Jewish refugees.

The history of the relations between Jews and Muslims is not a simple history. But it is not black and white either. It is a long history, with plenty of dark moments, and significant seeds of hope.

Let’s give hope a chance. May hate not to prevail. May the fanaticism of a minority of Muslim citizens come soon to an end. May God bless and protect the journey of the vast majority of their co-religionist towards modernity and democracy. May God sustain those Muslims who bravely stand against the extremists in their midst.

And may their community live in harmony together with all the communities in this country, and especially –if I may- with us.

We have so much in common. Among other things, we are all citizens of this Country.

ken yehi ratzon