Iran War: "The Man Who is the Adversary and Enemy!"

On Monday night we will celebrate Purim, the story of the brave Queen Esther and her bravery which saved the Jews of Persia from destruction. When she reveals her Jewish identity to the King and accuses Haman, the evil tyrant, she uses words that ring true today, "the man who is the adversary and enemy is the evil Haman!" (Esther 7:6)

You could apply these same words to the now late Supreme Leader of Iran today, Ali Khamenei, yimakh shmo. I want to address you as an American as well as a Jew and supporter of Israel regarding the joint American and Israeli attack on Iran.

As an American citizen, the use of military force on this scale, without a clear sense of the overall strategy, without input from Congress, without clear bellicose action immediately prior to this from Iran, all concerns me. As Americans, we are right to voice such concerns and expect legal and thoughtful policy from our leadership.

However, I am thankful that one of the greatest enemies of the Jewish People and of Israel has been killed.

The Islamic Republic of Iran has been focused on the destruction of Israel since its creation. Everyday since 1979 when the ayatollahs took power, Israel has been threatened, and I think you could make a good argument that it has been an existential threat from Iran against Israel. Israel's actions in this attack do, from that perspective, fall in my mind within the bounds of halachic permissibility when it comes to preemptive self-defense. (Maimonides, Hilkhot Melachim 5:1)

Not only that, but the Islamic Republic has oppressed its people, in particular its women, and spread terror and death across the Middle East and the world. In 2009-10, 2011-12, 2017, and last year, there were mass protests by Iranians against Khamenei's government, all of which were brutally ended. It is not lightly that I use the world "evil" to describe anyone, but it fits for Khamenei and the government he heads. As a person concerned with human rights, women's rights, and personal liberty, such a regime is anathema to the values I hold dear. Its end would be a good thing.

We will have to watch as these events unfold. All people in the world deserve to live in peace with liberty and protected by the rule of law. However we can promote that here and abroad, we should.

It is worth mentioning during this perilous time that we are thankful our synagogue is protected by our security personnel, the local police, and our staff and volunteers who prioritize keeping NSJC a safe place to gather.

Towards the end of the Book of Esther comes a verse that we recite on Saturday nights during Havdalah. It is even more appropriate tonight than in other weeks. Let it be the prayer that guides us in these challenging times:

לַיְּהוּדִים הָיְתָה אוֹרָה וְשִׂמְחָה וְשָׂשֹׂן וִיקָר׃

"The Jews enjoyed light and gladness, happiness and honor." (Esther 8:16) 

Rabbi Benson

The Burden of Hatred: a Message about Minneapolis

These past weeks have been heavy on my heart as we have watched news of violence in Minnesota involving federal immigration enforcement agents and members of the community. In that time, two U.S. citizens were shot and killed during the surge of immigration enforcement activity in Minneapolis, and these events have sparked sorrow, outrage, and deep concern across the nation.

My namesake, Aaron the High Priest, teaches us to sanctify with love every human life. Aaron further teaches us “to love peace and pursue it” — especially in moments when violence and fear threaten the cohesion of our communities. Therefore, we must condemn unnecessary force and the loss of life, and join the voices calling for accountability, justice, and peace.

At the same time, I recognize that within our congregation there may be a diversity of views about immigration policy, federal enforcement, and the complex challenges facing our nation. Some may correctly point out that we Jews have benefited historically from open policies towards immigration. They may feel deeply the Torah’s call to welcome the stranger as paramount in today’s American politics. At the same time, I have no doubts that there are members of our congregation who are drawn to teachings such as those which tell us that without government and the rule of law, human nature would lead to anarchy – also a message endorsed by our tradition. These perspectives and others matter in how we engage with each other respectfully and thoughtfully.

They also point to the complexity of this situation. For that, I share a teaching on which all must agree that it applies today. The Torah commands: “If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden, and would refrain from raising it, you shall surely help him with it.” (Exodus 23:5).

On the surface, this law teaches us to overcome our natural inclination to assist even those we might otherwise avoid. The Talmud goes further, elaborating for us (Bava Metzia 32b): “If one encounters a friend whose animal collapsed and needs its burden unloaded and also encounters one who hates you who needs assistance to load a burden onto his animal, the mitzvah is to assist the one who hates you, in order to subjugate one’s evil inclination. And even if preventing suffering to animals is itself a Torah obligation, helping the one who hates you is considered the higher path because it disciplines our own hearts toward compassion over enmity.”

This teaching invites us to look inward — to examine how we respond to suffering and injustice, not simply that we respond. It challenges us to resist the easy comforts of partisanship and to ask instead: Are we acting out of empathy, humility, and a desire to heal? Are we following the imperative to kovesh et ha-yetzer, to subjugate the easy inclination toward anger, fear, or contempt for those who differ from and disagree with us in favor of mercy and justice?

These are not easy questions, and they do not yield simple answers — but they do guide us toward an ethical stance that values life and dignity for every human being.

As a community — bound by shared values and distinguished by the richness of our many voices — let us mourn lives cut short, pray for the de-escalation of violence, and advocate for policies and practices that reflect both justice and compassion. Let us continue to listen to one another, even where we disagree, and seek paths forward grounded in the deepest values of our tradition.

May we be strengthened to act with courage and wisdom. May we act with love for our fellow human beings, whoever they are, may we love peace, seek peace, and find it.

 

Rabbi Aaron Benson

The Jewish Lesson of Greenland

Jewish version of Greenland's flag.

The stereotype is a rabbi takes something from the weekly Torah portion and somehow applies it to currenet events.  This week, though, I thought I might share a Jewish message we can learn from the news instead.  

Without getting political, Greenland has taken center stage, we can all agree.  What is the Jewish connection to Greenland?  Surely, some enterprising or unlucky, or maybe a bit of both, member of the tribe has links to the world's biggest island?

In fact, I am pleased to say, Jews have been connected to Greenland since at least the 16th or 17th centuries.  Dutch whalers hunted off the coasts of Greenland and there were Dutch Jews who were whalers, so it seems likely there were Dutch Jews who plied their trade around Greenland.

In the early 20th century, a Jewish meterologist who was part of a polar expedition had to have his toes amputated with scissors on account of frostbite.  Seems like they could have been a little better prepared for that possibility.  

During World War II with the establishment of an American military presence on Greenland, the Jewish population increased signficantly and there were at times more than fifty Jews living.  Chaplains who visisted conducted services as the "northernmost minyan in the world."

It was at the same time the first known Jewish resident of Greenland came to live there.  Rita Sheftelowitz was a Danish Jew who had escaped to Sweden during the war.  She became a nurse and lived on Greenland for a couple years in the 1950s before making aliyah and then eventually returning to Denmark in her later years.  

At present, the "permanent" Jewish community of Greenland is just one person, Paul Cohen, a Wisconsin native who works as a translator and with his wife also runs a bed and breakfast.  He was interviewed in several outlets in early 2023 and spoke abou this love and appreciation for the natural beauty of Greenland, the home he has made, and that while not especially religious, how his status as the entire Greenlandic Jewish community himself, he takes great pride in sharing about his culture with locals as well as Jewish tourists who always seem to find him.  

What a wonderful lesson for us.  Paul's story is so much the story of Jews everywhere in the diaspora.  Whether we are one in 57,000 or one of many, whether or not we are so observant or so knowledgable, each of us can be proud ambassadors of Judaism wherever we live.  And also like Paul, we can cultivate gratitude for God's blessings around us, whether natural, communal, or otherwise, and live our lives inspired to share our thankfulness and our Jewish pride with others.  

Moses, Minneapolis, and Facing the Truth

 

I feel like Moses this week.  In Parshat Shemot, at seeing the strange bush on fire but not burning and then hearing and feeling the presence of God, the Torah tells us, “At this, Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God.”

Usually, the endless stream of videos showing violence and unrest of all sorts do not make the impression on me that the multiple angles of the shooting of Renee Nicole Good have had.  It is a brutal reminder that terrible and tragic things can happen in an instant on an average-looking street in the middle of the day, right outside your house. 

But what makes me angry and makes me hope I can be even more like Moses, and that other Americans will join me in emulating him, is the response of so many of our national leaders and officials, who seem unwilling or unable to acknowledge that whether or not the incident proves to be illegal, unjust, or evil, how can we not all agree that the scene is terrible, is horrible and heartbreaking? 

I’m inclined at this point to believe it was an unjust and unwarranted act by the agent.  But I don’t know that for sure.  I support law enforcement, I am a police chaplain even, but never would it occur to me that after seeing that video that there needs to be at least an investigation to know the truth about a chaotic and disturbing-looking interaction between a government agent and a member of the public.  How have we gotten to the point that saying that is controversial?

And while I doubt it will be the case, if it turns out that Good had looked at the agent, declared she was going to kill him by running him over with his car, and that he was in the way, that somehow it turns out that the action was justified, I am saddened to think that those who are outraged now will be unable to accept that truth – that they will be unable to accept that even though doing so needn’t mean their other objections to the actions of Immigration and Customs Enforcement can still be legitimate. 

Moses, after being so afraid that he hides, somehow turns it around.  So much so that he goes on to argue with God about the mission Moses is being given to lead the Jews from slavery to freedom.  He argues, he wants to understand the details, the nuance.  Is he going to have help?  What is God going to do?  What about his own limitations? 

I believe, whether Moses was afraid or not, his arguing, his wanting to know more, his investigation into what the Creator of the Universe tells him to do is precisely why Moses was the right one for the job.

If we Americans, no, if we humans, are going to fight for what is right, even when we are afraid, that we must be informed.  We must be willing to accept the truth.  We have to accept that we won’t always know all the answers.  And most of all, when we or others make mistakes, or even do the wrong thing, we must admit it.  Because if we do not, then our cause, please God it is the right cause, is never, ever, strengthened, not in the long run, by denying it.

It took Moses forty years to complete the plan God gave him.  I’m glad Moses asked a lot of questions about what he had to do.  I hope and pray I will be able to do the same when moral quandaries confront me.  And I pray that all others in our country will do the same.  It is long path to take, but the only one, that leads to the Promised Land.    

Do Not Delay: The Voice of the Captives Cries Out

 Please take a look at my latest article, posted at the Times of Israel Blogs:

The Voice of the Captives Cries Out, TOI Blogs

My Friends,

We stand in the Days of Awe, trembling before the Judge of all the earth. We cry out: “Avinu Malkeinu, have mercy upon us.” But what if God were to answer: “Have you had mercy upon My children in captivity? Have you heard their cries?”

For the Torah is not silent. The prophets are not silent. The rabbis are not silent. They thunder with a single voice: There is no mitzvah greater than redeeming captives. None.

The Severity of Captivity

Jeremiah declared: “Those for death—to death. Those for the sword—to the sword. Those for famine—to famine. Those for captivity—to captivity.”

The Talmud (Bava Batra 8b) explains captivity is the worst fate of all, for it contains death, famine, humiliation, and despair.

And the Rambam adds (Hilchot Matnot Aniyim 8:10): “There is no mitzvah greater than redeeming captives. Whoever delays it is as if they are spilling blood.”

As if spilling blood. Do you hear? Every day we delay, every day we calculate, every day we say “not yet” — we stand with blood on our hands.

The Stories That Condemn Us

The Talmud (Gittin 58a) preserves stories meant to shake us.

When the Romans crushed the Bar Kokhba revolt, the Talmud tells us how the Jewish children of Beitar, the final bastion of resistance, sought to defend themselves with their writing styluses but were overwhelmed, murdered by being wrapped in their Torah scrolls, and burned alive.

The Talmud goes on to tell of how one brilliant boy enslaved in Rome, whom Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananya refused to abandon until he redeemed him “at whatever the cost.” That child became Rabbi Yishmael ben Elisha who if you know the old passage from the prayer book, Rabbi Yishmael omer, b’shalosh esrei midot haTorah nidreshet, “Rabbi Ishmael said, according to thirteen principles is the Torah interpreted,” then you have heard of this giant Torah sage.

The sages knew the rule: “Do not pay more than their value.” But in the face of children in captivity, they broke the rule. They paid whatever it took. Because when lives hang in the balance, calculation is cowardice.

In Our Time

In recent history, the late Israeli sage, Rav Ovadia Yosef declared: “In a situation of danger we redeem captives even for more than their value. Our enemies today need no encouragement to kidnap. They do so regardless. Therefore, in the face of danger, redeem them—at any cost.”

We are not dealing with marauding corsairs or medieval barons, hard up for money and looking to squeeze the Jews for gold.  The enemy today and the risk today require we prioritize saving lives at all costs. Any cost! For strategy is speculative, but the cries of the captives are real. Their torment is not theoretical. Their suffering is now.

The Indictment

I have heard the arguments against making the hostages the priority.  I have heard why prosecuting the war “to its end” is essential.  I have even made the arguments myself.  But today, my friends, I come before you and must say to all who will hear, we are standing trial this very day in the heavenly court.  We must speak out for what is right. 

You build strategies, weigh deterrence, speak of tomorrow. But the Torah cries: What of today? What of those held underground, tortured and dying? What of their loved ones imprisoned with fear and dread for their lives?

Do not harden your hearts. Do not stand idly by. Do not offer excuses. For God is not deceived by excuses. God asks only: Did you bring My children home? Or did you leave them in the pit while you waged your wars?

The Call

The halakhah is clear. The prophets are clear. The Rambam is clear. Rav Ovadia is clear. There is no mitzvah greater, no command more urgent.

Therefore, I say: First the hostages. First the captives. First the broken ones who cry from their chains.

Then, and only then, the other battles. Then, and only then, the other strategies.

For if we abandon them, we abandon our Torah. We abandon our God. We abandon our very soul as a people.

What can we do?

Support organizations and families

Hostage and Missing Families Forum: This group, active in Israel and the United States, supports families of those taken captive. Donations fund diplomatic lobbying, media campaigns, and direct aid for families.

Raise awareness

Social media campaigns: Share information about the hostages from reliable sources on social media. Many campaigns use hashtags to amplify their message.

Community events: Organize or attend local events, such as rallies or walks, to bring peaceful attention to the hostages’ plight. Our synagogue participates in Run for Their Lives every week.

Posters: The “Bring Them Home Now” campaign and similar initiatives have created posters of the hostages. They still adorn the walls of our synagogue.  Distribute these in your community is a direct way to spread awareness.

Contact elected officials

Engaging with your elected representatives can influence policy and diplomatic efforts.

Call or email: Contacting your government representatives and urging them to prioritize the hostages’ release sends a powerful message. Staffers often tally every call and email, making your voice heard.

Advocate for diplomatic solutions: Urge your officials to support negotiations, which have previously led to hostage releases. For example, Qatar, Egypt, and the U.S. have been involved in past mediation efforts.

Conclusion

On Yom Kippur we will beat our chests and cry out: “For the sin we have committed before You in hardening our hearts.” Let us not add one more blow to our chest, one more stain upon our soul.

Let us say instead: This year, we heard their cries. This year, we acted. This year, we redeemed.  Here, in the Diaspora, private citizens, our impact is likely only ever to be small.  I am under no illusions as to that.  But I believe that even the smallest deed, the quietest voice, still matters.

And may the God who redeems captives redeem us all — from captivity, from fear, from cruelty, from exile — speedily and in our days.

Jewish American Heritage Month

 

May is Jewish American Heritage Month and for the second year in a row, the first Wednesday in May is Jewish American Heritage Day here in Suffolk County. A wonderful gathering took place this past Wednesday and I was honored to give the invocation and share a blessing of Jewish unity along with my colleague, Rabbi Helayne Shalhevet of Temple Beth Emeth. Please find here the text of the Unity Prayer and some pictures from the event: Eternal One, As we gather to celebrate Jewish American Heritage Month, we give thanks for the rich tapestry of Jewish life— a story of resilience, faith, and contribution woven into the fabric of this nation. Bless the Jewish people in America, in Israel, and around the world with unity of spirit and strength of purpose. May our love for one another and our shared heritage transcend borders and generations. We give thanks for the ability to practice our Judaism each in our own way,  freely in our country, yet united as one Jewish people.   Our lives are enriched through being a part of the American Jewish community. We honor the enduring dream of Zion— a homeland reborn in love, sacrifice, and courage. May our connection to Israel, the heart of the Jewish people, continue to inspire pride, responsibility, and hope. Reunite the families of the 59 hostages remaining in Gaza with their loved ones they have waited for these past 579 days. Bring them home now! Let us walk together, proud of our past, united in our present, and committed to a future of harmony, justice, and peace. Amen.

What American Jews Should Remember on Yom HaZikaron (and Celebrate on Yom HaAtzmaut)

If we Jews wanted, we could have a reason to mourn everyday.  The great scholar Leopold Zunz was not wrong in describing ours as a "lachrymose history."  And yet, we Jews don't fast and don sackcloth and sprinkle ashes on our heads everyday, despite the historical and ongoing (571 days since October 7th today) occasions to do so.

What we do, however, and do exceptionally well, is remember.  Today is in fact such a day, Yom haZikaron, Israel's Remembrance Day for those who died in the defense of Israel and those killed in terror attacks.  Unlike in the United States, their "Memorial Day" is truly somber, holy, meaningful.  In part, because even prior to October 7th, fallen defenders of Israel and victims of terror were real, immediate, pressing losses.  In part because the day of remembering leads directly into Yom HaAtzmaut, Israel's Independence Day, which for us in the Diaspora, begins tonight.  The solemn mood of Yom HaZikaron gives way to joy and celebration.  

Acknowleding sadness, remembering the sacrifices that have brought us to the present moment, feeling the proper sense of sorrow and grief is entirely healthy and holy.  Judaism, by putting the focus on zachor, remembering, doesn't leave us solely to grieve.  It makes us see things in the great span of Jewish history.  And Jewish life.  Jewish living, today.  We do recognize the difficult nature of our past, the ongoing sufferings of today, but those feelings give way not to despair but to hope, and even joy.  Just as Jewish life should always.  

American Jews have sadly had to come to reckon with levels of antisemitism and violence unknown before October 7th in this country.  It has been all to easy, for us living in an American milieu, to fall victim to feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, and sorrow.  How can this be happening?  

It is for all those reasons, that we, living here, need the lessons implicit in Yom HaZikaron and YomHaAtzmaut, of remembering our losses and then gratefully celebrating our blessings, precisely because of the losses we all share.  

As a rabbi in the United States, it is a small measure of hope I feel to see more and more Jews here, in particular, those younger than me, who have come to embody this lesson.  Who have not let the events in Israel and the US scare them away from their Jewish heritage but instead embrace it, proudly and loudly!  I am inspired, just as I am by those refugees from Europe and others who brought Israel to be 77 years ago.  As I am inspired by the young Israelis risking their lives to defend her today.  The lessons of the past are being remembered and are being acted upon.  

When we remember what has been lost and what has been endured, we are saddened.  But we also are inspired, to press on, to give thanks, and to live with joy for the moment that has been granted to us - for the opportunity we have to be one link in the great chain of Jewish life and forge it, beautiful and strong, for the generation to come.  

As the Psalmist noted centuries ago, "I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Hope in the Lord; be of good courage, and God shall strengthen your heart; hope, I say, in the Lord!"