In the Shadow of the Holocaust:

Jewish Spirituality![1]

INTRODUCTION: Perhaps no one has struggled more with the contradictions Judaism experienced 

after the Holocaust than Elie Wiesel, who was himself a Holocaust survivor. In so doing, he articulates

 this question over and over: How could any Jew claim a special covenant, that is, a unique relationship 

to a God who allows the Holocaust?

He reasons that during the middle Ages, when Jews chose death rather than forced conversion

to Christianity, they were convinced that by their sacrifice they were glorifying and sanctifying

God's name. But at Auschwitz and the concentration camps across Europe, Wiesel contends the

proportions of the sacrifices were without point, without faith, without divine inspiration. Rather, the Holocaust, in which six million Jews died, including one million children, was one violent, brutal,

meaningless sea of suffering from which God was absent.

            But the issue which Wiesel struggles with is not the Holocaust per se; rather, what about life 

after the Holocaust? Or, what about the faith that Jews had before they were put to death by 

the millions in the crematoriums? What next for a people of faith – a people who thought of 

themselves as a “chosen” people?

            To my knowledge, none of us here today was an actual concentration camp survivor, though 

there are some here who may have had relatives who were. There are also some here who are 

Germans, who were children and teenagers during the war. They too suffered for a war and a holocaust 

that they had no part in causing or carrying out. In fact, their stories of survival during and after the war 

are also heartbreaking and heroic.

            Each semester in the class on civic engagement which I teach at FGCU, on the last day of class 

each semester, I show them the film, Freedom Writers. It identifies the systemic suffering that 

minorities, especially Blacks and Hispanic immigrants, experience in America, specifically, at Wilson 

High School in Long Beach, California. 

In the movie, based on an actual story, the woman who hid Anne Frank from the Nazis, visits their 

high school class, and tells her story in resisting the Nazis. She then identifies it with the student’s 

story of struggle against prejudice and social injustice in America. It helps them to redefine themselves 

and to understand their personal story differently.

All of which relates to our theme for this morning. As you know, Passover began last night. A 

special Seder meal is held tonight for observant Jews and the story of the Passover is celebrated. It’s 

rooted in the biblical narrative. But the story itself is for Jews, and their Christian and Muslim offspring, 

a big deal indeed.

SCRIPTURE.

       When I first began to preach, I asked my father, who was also a minister, what happens 

when you don’t have a sermon and yet you’re supposed to preach. He responded immediately, 

“Bring the children of Israel out of Egypt.” The story of the children of Israel gaining their freedom is 

a powerful motif not only for people of faith, but also oppressed peoples.

             As most of us recall, Jews trace their story to the time when their immigrant foreparents, the

Israelites, were in slavery in Egypt. A man named Moses engineers their leaving Egypt and traveling

North to the land that their god Yahweh had promised – where the modern nation of Israel and the

Occupied Territories of Palestine now are.

           Crucial to the story of the success of Moses in securing their release are a series of plagues

he calls down from God upon the Egyptian people. The last plague is one in which the angel of death

will be flying over, and he will kill the firstborn male son of every household in Egypt that does not have

blood on the doorpost. But for those who do have, the angel will “pass over” their house and save

their son from death.

In preparation, each Israelite household is instructed to kill a lamb and then wipe the blood of

the lamb over the doorpost of their home.

Though a gruesome imagery, it is also carried over into Christian theology, only this time, the

blood of Jesus takes the place of the blood of a lamb. Rather than the first born son being saved, this

time, it is the souls of those who have been “washed in the blood of the lamb,” i.e., Jesus. They will

escape eternal death and damnation.

I think we all are turned off by that mythology, though it still is at the heart of being “saved,” 

according to evangelical Christian theology. Nonetheless, the task we face is not to objectify mythology 

and then reject it; rather, it is to hear the story, interpret it and apply it to our own life situation.

That’s what Jews had to do after the Holocaust: Retell their story. Redefine themselves in the 

aftermath of the absence of God as their families and fellow Jews were led into the crematoriums – as 

were gypsies, the disabled, and people of same-sex orientation.

Specifically, who and what was meant by invoking the name of God? Did it make any 

difference to believe or not to believe? What it meant to be Jewish had been forever transformed. 

That transformation was also part of the renewed impetus for the founding of the modern nation 

of Israel. It is at the root of a continuing sense of re-examining what it means to be Jewish. It’s why the 

survival of Israel is such an integral part of the story of Judaism. To so many Jews, the survival of Israel 

is not a political issue; rather, Israel’s survival is a bulwark against the destruction of Judaism itself.

Though I did my doctoral project in Israel and the Occupied Territories, it was only when I became

part of All Faiths that I truly began to discover how important to the story of Judaism the survival of

the nation of Israel is.

For Jews, the survival of Israel is not a matter of politics, and for only a small segment is it

bound up with some religious mythology related to the bible. Rather, modern Israel is a part of the

retelling of the story of Judaism, post-Holocaust. Not only have they redefined themselves, but they

have retold their story in a contemporary setting that does not allow for the passive, sheep led to the

slaughter, that seemed to describe so much of the Holocaust.

            And instead of being a set of beliefs, Judaism is more a set of practices…the practice of a 

moral high ground rooted in an historic journey.

APPLICATION.

So if we appropriate the lessons learned by the Jews, what will they mean for us…especially after 

difficult times have arisen. If you’ve gone through tough times lately, perhaps you can identify with the 

struggle of the Jews. After those times, it may mean that we have to:

1. Redefine ourselves.

          Perhaps no more difficult redefinition can occur than for those who have lost a spouse or partner 

to death, divorce, or the ending of a long-term relationship. To think of one’s self as a “we,” and for 

others to think of us that way, is part of the process of developing a meaningful relationship, marriage 

or union. 

          We are not a single person, but a person in a relationship with Bill, Bob, Mary or Jane.

          It’s often been observed that people who have been in a very long relationship and who have 

lived together for years, begin to look like each other. Their dress, their physical demeanor, their 

interests, all began to match. Like the biblical metaphor, they begin to look, think, and act as one.

Then something happens, and the relationship, the marriage, the union, no longer is. They’re 

devastated. How could it happen that the one they were so much a part of is no longer a part of them 

and their self-identity? Now they’re not a “we” but an “I.” And it’s very, very hard to accept. It 

requires redefinition of who they are, what they want, and what they plan to do with their lives. So what 

do they do?

          My late brother was very successful in business. He was fortunate that he had two children: a

son and a daughter. His son worked outside on the farm, the dairy, and the trucking company, in overseeing the many family holdings; his daughter secured an undergraduate degree in finance, and an MBA in business. She was overseeing the books.

          But when my brother died, my sister-in-law was overwhelmed with all that was going on, and

chose to sell off a significant chunk of their holdings, which meant there was no longer a real job for her children.

          Her daughter, when she discovered what had happened, went to her mother and said, “Mom,

I really don’t like finance or business. I want to work in psychology with troubled teens.”

So she went back to school for her prerequisites, and then went to California to secure a 

doctorate in psychology, and has happily worked for years in the juvenile justice system of Texas. She 

redefined herself from within and acted accordingly. Meaningful redefinition begins from within,  not 

from without.

For that to happen though, means we have also learn to:

2. Retell our story.

When we retell our story, we don’t have to reject the past or act as though important dimensions of it

did not happen.

I remember when I first left the Pentecostal Holiness Church and joined the United Methodist

Church. I was very self-conscious about my religious background. It took years for me not only to

learn to appreciate that past, but also to move beyond its not only being the identifying component of

my past, but also an important part of my current self-identity. Rather, we have to identify those things

that matter now and begin to talk about them in our new situation.

So when we retell our story what are the guidelines? Margaret Young once gave a great

suggestion. She wrote:

Often people attempt to live their lives backwards: they try to have more things or more money in order to do more of what they want so they will be happier. The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then do what you need to do,

in order to have what you want.

          Meg McGowan has written, “A life lived in line with our own vision cannot be regretted. It is the life that has been forfeited in service to someone else’s standards that is mourned.”

3. Live out our redefinition in practice – even when it feels foreign.

John Wesley was the founder of Methodism. He preached a particular doctrine of personal experience

that was foreign to many who were drawn to his take on Christianity. So Wesley advised his

questioning young preachers, to preach the personal holiness Wesley taught until they believed it.

          When we are attempting to redefine ourselves and retell our story, it is important to begin impersonating that new self. We do it long enough until once day we look back and realize we have

made it to a new self-understanding. We have adapted to our different circumstances.

CONCLUSION.

During my first trip to Israel, a group of us went in the Negev Desert, to the home of David

Ben-Gurion, the first prime minister of Israel. Since we were a religious group, our leader asked Mr. Ben-Gurion to read his favorite scripture. He took the bible proffered and proceeded to read from Genesis 01:27:

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female he created he them.

I remember thinking that was the weirdest favorite verse I had ever heard. Then he interpreted it, and I thought it was one of the greatest favorite verses I had ever heard. He said, “Before we were ever

Jews, Christians, or Muslims…before we were Americans, Israeli’s or Egyptians…before we were

any of the identity tags that define us, we were women and men created by God. And that is the message of the great religions.” So be it.

Shalom, Salaam Aleikum. Amen. And blessed be.

We will pause now for 7½ minutes of brief questions as a part of our Conversation Café. The Service and Support Council will provide microphones for you to speak into.