Shemot 5765

A few weeks ago I had the honour of being invited to the induction of a new Vicar. The liturgy was fascinating. It included impressive moments, when the new Vicar went to the back of the church and sounded the church bell, which seemed to be very heavy. I am so glad that we Jews do not have such a thing as the church bell, in our synagogues.

A few moments before that, the new vicar stood in front of the bishop and took solemn oaths of allegiance and obedience to the Church of England, (here’s another thing we Jews do not have: a hierarchy). He then signed a document of covenant, where all these oaths were listed, and the parchment was then dutifully and solemnly placed into the Parish archive.

I have spent the academic part of my life studying Early Modern History, and I spent time reading and analyzing documents such as that covenant, so that was, for me, the most fascinating part.

You know, historians love documents (How does a historian realise he is alive? When he cannot find his death certificate). I found it fascinating that these oaths mention the Book of Common Prayer that the Vicar has to commit to use. That and only that.

I am lucky, that I don’t have not to commit to using only one prayerbook.

Also the Thirty Nine Articles of Religion are mentioned. Again, we’re very lucky, at my induction nobody even mentioned the Ten Commandments. Thirty Nine is even a larger number.

The church was packed. I am reasonably sure I was the only Jew in the room. So I enjoyed my privileged point of view of an external observer: these rituals, these formulas, the quite detailed religious commitments are not close to Jewish sensitivity. But they have a fascinating history, which I am lucky enough to have studied in my University years.

AndI know that none of these historical documents came into being in a peaceful way. The Book of Common Prayer, for example, was adopted by Edward VI, after the break from Rome, in itself not an easy step. It was then banished by Mary 1st, “Bloody Mary”, as part of her despotic Catholic restoration, when Protestants were burned at the stake. And it was then re-adopted by Elisabeth 1st, but with a bit of editing, in order not to alienate some of the factions.

The history of the Thirty Nine Articles of Faith is even more fascinating. They have been written to shape the identity of the Anglican Church, as different from the Catholic Church, but also not too close to the German Lutherans or to the most radical Protestant groups, mainly Scottish. Ever since the beginning of English Reformation there have been several statements of position, and only after many decades the Articles of Faith took the actual form, the one that Reverend had to subscribe publicly and solemnly to gain access to his new position.

That was impressive. Even the liturgy of the ceremony, the moment when the new vicar bows to the bishop, and then he turns to the assembly proclaiming his allegiance, all of this choreography is, in essence, the result of a compromise. These compromises were established usually in the era of Elisabeth 1st, after decades of religious war.

In this country, in England, and I understand very intensively inSussex, ordinary good British people, engaged for almost a century in furious battles against each other. They killed each other in the name of true faith and of true Christianity. The religious divide cut across families. There were brothers belonging to different denominations, as we say today: Calvinist against Anglican. The war was horrific, as every war is, but this probably more than others,because in religious wars the combatants fear no death. You cannot deter a religious fanatic just by threatening to kill him. To him, death is a reward; it is the beginning of the true life.

Lewes Town Hall is a very gracious historical building, and nowadays hosts plenty of nice events, but in 1555 seventeen Protestant martyrs were burned at the stake exactly there. Some of them had Catholic relatives and siblings: how horrendous must that have been, the spectacle of brothers rejoicing at each other’s death.

These were my thoughts a few days ago, when terrible news from France began appearing all over the place. When religious fanatics murdered journalists and killed ordinary citizens, with the usual special predilection for killing Jews.

Those journalists, those people, are martyrs. They have been slaughtered by fanatics whose alleged goal was to defend the honour of their religious faith.

We all pray for the end of this nightmare and we all wish the Muslim world the strength to take the same path that Christianity has taken in England, by discovering the virtues of compromise, and the benefits deriving from religious peace. May such a day come soon, although we are probably too terrified to be able to imagine such a possibility.

But as a Rabbi, and as a Jew, I want to point to a peculiar trait of our faith, because I think everybody can learn from it. That is, the duality of Moses and Aaron. In this week’s Torah portion we read how it began.

Moses has a speech impediment, and for this reason he has to rely of Aaron.Moses speaks to God; or rather, it’s God that speaks to Moses,during all the years of the wandering in the desert. Despite that,Moses never claims to the people, to his people, that he is the leader in the name of God. God’s words, even when they are spoken directly to a human being, always need to be transmitted to another human being. They need to be interpreted. And this second human being, Aaron, is in charge to explain to the people what God wants from them. And of course he adds his own intelligence, his own mind,his own efforts, his own interpretation. The Divine words cannot be taken literally, never. What God says to the men need always to be interpreted. In Judaism, no one, not even Moses, can benefit from direct access to the Divinity. No one can claim to have the best channel of communication with the Almighty. There is always someone else to rely on, another human being, just like you.

This dialectic, mediate, human facet of Judaism has largely preserved our faith of becoming a tool in the hands of the fanatics and has allowed the virtues of compromise to prevail among ourselves, even in times of persecution, even before these benefits were discovered by Western European Christianity.

In the heart of Europe, nowadays, religious violence is killing anew. God forbid, the streets of France may see some other religious violence. In this moment we dare to invite our Muslim brothers and sisters to take inspiration from Judaism, from the most inspiring teachings of our tradition; the duality of the leadership of Moses and Aaron; the prohibition to act in the name of God; the ban of fanaticism and vigilantism.

These are spiritual treasures that we are willing to share with all the believers in the One and Only God, the Almighty, Adonay, Al-lah, call Him (Her) as you like. We say to our brothers and sisters: don’t dare to think you are doing the will of God. Do not act in the name ofGod. Rather, pray. Let us pray together, let us pray for peace.