Chol
HaMo-eid Pesach, Exodus 33:12–34:26 The Torah: A Modern
Commentary pp. 657–661 Haftarah, Ezekiel 37:1–14; Scroll, The Song of
Songs
ON VIEWING
THE BONES OF IDEALISM Jonathan Gordon
FOCAL POINT |
The hand of Adonai came upon me. He took me out by the spirit of
Adonai and set me down in the valley. It was full of bones. He led me all
around them; there were very many of them spread over the valley, and they were
very dry. He [God] said to me, “O mortal, can these bones live again?” I
replied, “O Adonai, God, only You know.” (Ezekiel 37:1–4)
I prophesied as He commanded me. The breath entered them, and they came to
life and stood up on their feet, a vast multitude. (Ezekiel
37:10)
D'VAR TORAH |
Please note that this
Torat Hayim focuses not on the parashah but on the haftarah for this
week, Ezekiel 37:1–14.
This haftarah for the
Sabbath of Pesach depicts a graphic encounter: Ezekiel faces a panorama of human
bones, which are completely bleached of life.
Whose bones are they? What
happened to those people? The Talmud tells us that the bones belonged to slaves
from the tribe of Ephraim, who escaped from Egypt before the time of Moses. They
found the wilderness a trackless waste and were killed by the men of Gath
(Talmud, Sanhedrin 92b). They laid down their lives for the sake of
liberation, but their time had not yet come.
Before they could be
revived, Ezekiel was tested. In response to God’s question “Can these bones live
again?” it would have been politic for Ezekiel to reply “Yes.” But the prophet’s
integrity induced him to say neither yea nor nay. He had the audacity to throw
the issue back to God, saying, “Only You know.” It was for God to determine if
these remains would be revived or would remain forever forgotten.
What a sad and beautiful
moment! The conscience of man and that of God were stirred into action by love
and respect for those who had striven for liberation. Both were compelled to act
as they faced the remains of past idealism.
The prophet had to speak the
truth. But who will speak the truth today? We again face the bones of idealism,
and the bones are dry, indeed. Our national conscience needs to be revived, and
yet it seems few are willing to undertake the project. We have raced to war with
Iraq before we were immediately threatened. Is this a necessary war or a war of
choice? Is this war one of a mighty nation against a weak one? We know that
there is the possibility that many civilians may die at our hands. We know that
there is the possibility that the innocent may perish with the guilty.
What is this blanket of
moral quiet that has fallen upon us at a time when many voices of conscience
should be heard? Is there not an inner voice that implores us to defend the
rights of the powerless and to be compassionate in our actions regardless of our
avowed intentions and proclaimed grievances? Why do we express regret about the
imprisonment of Japanese Americans during World War II and not speak out against
the suspension of the civil rights of Arab Americans?
Our own republic is not the
only democracy that needs to be questioned and challenged. Should American Jews
also discuss how the Israeli government treats Palestinians? How long can
Palestinians be without political and economic rights, no matter what the
ultimate goals are for that region? Should physical force be used against
prisoners? Is there any point at which we should not support the government of
Israel? How do we best ensure that such a point is never reached? To even raise
these issues in mainstream American forums is considered impossible by some
elected officials and political community leaders. I, for one, do not want such
questioning to be the sole province of those who have no feeling for the destiny
and rights of the Jewish people. We who love Am Yisrael must be among
those who are intolerant of injustice, if only for the sake of our great moral
legacy and our honor.
We can, like Ezekiel, speak
truth that will echo over the silent valley of death. Why not affirm that all
human life is sacred? Prophetic Judaism compels us to speak with moral authority
in the face of political and economic power. We keep faith with those who have
been courageous in their day by being courageous in our own. Like the tribe of
Ephraim, may we boldly set out on the path of justice and once again compel God
to witness and renew our lives and hearts.
Our acts of conscience are
acts of devotion. They become living sinews attached to the bones of our moral
legacy, a vital force that brings about change and may still redeem the
world.
BY THE WAY |
R. Eliezer son of R. Yose the Galilean said: The dead whom Ezekiel brought
back to life went up to the Land of Israel, married, and begot sons and
daughters. At this, R. Judah ben Betera jumped up on his feet and said: I am one
of their descendants, and here are the t’fillin that my grandfather left
me [as an heirloom] from them. (The Book of Legends, Sefer Ha-Aggadah,
edited by Hayim Nahman Bialik and Yehoshua Hana Ravnitzky, New York: Schocken
Books, p. 151)
There is no other people in the world that is so absolutely committed to the
sanctity of human rights and equality of all mankind as our (Jewish) people. Our
history is the most emphatic testimony that injustice to some spells the doom of
all. What is called for is not the silent sigh but a voice of moral compassion
and indignation. (Abraham Joshua Heschel, Moral Grandeur and Spiritual
Audacity: Essays, New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux)
Liberation Theology is not really a new idea for those Jews who claim a
continuous heritage of—in the words of the prophet Micah—knowing God by doing
justice. (William K. Tabb, Churches in Struggle: Liberation Theology and
Social Change in North America)
I am a Jew because in every place where suffering weeps, the Jew weeps. I am
a Jew because the promise of Israel is a universal promise. (Edmond Fleg,
CCAR Haggadah)
Why, who makes much of a miracle? As for me, I know of nothing else but
miracles. (Walt Whitman, “Miracles,” Leaves of
Grass)
YOUR GUIDE |
Why do you think that Ezekiel 37:1–14 was chosen as the haftarah for the
Sabbath of Pesach?
Passover deals with God’s promises. In the Passover story, is God shown to
be faithful in fulfilling His promises? Under what conditions does God fulfill
His promises?
What is the relationship between liberation and redemption? Why are both so
intertwined in the meaning of Passover?
Can either God or humanity bring liberation without each other?
Some Rabbis viewed the experience of Ezekiel as a vision, while others have
said that it was an actual event in which the prophet took part. Do you think
that it makes a difference?
Jonathan Gordon is the cantor at Woodlands Community Temple,
Greenburgh, NY.
The opinions expressed in Torat Hayim do not
necessarily represent the views and opinions of the Reform Movement, the UAHC,
the CCAR, or any of its affiliates and institutions.
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