By Donald H. Harrison
SAN DIEGO— Under the wedding canopy, there was a momentary pause—expectation
built—and a wine glass was smashed under foot. No one said, "Mazal tov!"
The action simply ended a ceremony that did not unite two people but instead
commemorated what could never be.
There is a Central and Eastern European Jewish tradition that when a young woman
dies between the time of her betrothal and her wedding, a ceremony is held in
which the groom honors her by sanctifying God's name. He does so under a
wedding canopy that is black, instead of white.
Members of the New Life Club of Holocaust Survivors conducted two Yom HaShoah
ceremonies Monday evening, April 24, in the sanctuary of Tifereth Israel
Synagogue, where many of them regularly pray. The first was the lighting
of memorial candle lighting by members who survived various concentration
camps.
The second, utilizing a booklet created
by Jewish theological student David M. Freidenreich, was modeled on the
ceremony of the black chuppah. However, in this case, it was not the loss of a single bride, but the murder of
the Six Million that was being commemorated .In
this unique Yom HaShoah service, six readers stood in for God, the
Holocaust survivor Gussie Zaks emcees a ceremony in which
Max and Rose Schindler light a memorial candle for the victims
of Auschwitz concentration camp.
groom, but
not all of them voiced sympathy for God's loss. Some blamed God for it.
Conservative Rabbi
Leonard Rosenthal helped orient the congregation by reading an introduction
in the Kiddushin—A service for Yom ha-Shaoh booklet—and
violinist Eileen
Wingard provided various mourning and wedding melodies called for in the
script. Readers 1 through 6, drawn from the ranks of survivors, their
children, and congregants, respectively were Carlo Ellis, Barbara Jacobs,
Margaret Benedict, Jack Morgenstern, Rose Schindler and Sally Scheinok
As the hour-long ceremony moved through four stages—betrothal (in which six
candles are lit), sanctification, memorial candles, and the seven
blessings—differences in the way the six readers perceived the Holocaust, and
God, began to emerge. At times these differences were subtle, at times
they were striking. All of the readers believed in God, but some were so
angry that they said things one might never expect to hear in the sanctuary of a
synagogue.
The first reader voices traditionally pious sentiments. This reader recites El
Moleh Rachamim, the prayer normally said at a burial or memorial
occasion. Reader No. 1 quotes to us comforting stories from the Talmud and
Torah. A bride whose husband has disappeared takes comfort in the words of
her wedding contract which state: "I shall return to you, I shall maintain
my covenant with you, I shall be ever-present with you."
The second reader believes that God suffered right along with the Jews during
the Holocaust.. "Since God is not subject to any limitation, God's
suffering from Israel's troubles is also boundless," Reader No. 2 also
philosophizes. "It is not merely that it would be impossible for a
person to endure the experience of such great suffering, but even to conceive of
God's suffering is impossible."
Reader No. 3 is disappointed in God. Taught that other nations rejected
God's marriage proposal at Sinai, the third reader says, "Had we known then
what we know now, perhaps we too should have refused your offer." At
this point Reader No. 3 extinguishes one of the candles. Before the
ceremony is concluded, all six candles will be snuffed, to be replaced by a
large yahrzeit candle. "The thread uniting God and humanity, heaven
and earth, has been broken," this reader believes. "We stand in a
cold, silent unfeeling cosmos...After Auschwitz, what else can a Jew say about
God?"
The fourth reader accuses God of abandoning the Jews, hurling at God words of
bitter irony "If God were not full of mercy, mercy would have been in
the world, not just in God." Reader No. 4 also suggests that there is no
theology after Auschwitz, that the numbers tattooed on the arms of the inmates
"are the telephone numbers of God, numbers that do not answer and now are
disconnected, one by one."
Reader No. 5 has seen but makes no pretense of comprehending. This reader
retells the story of a boy being hanged by his Nazi captors; his youthful body
so light it takes more than a half hour of agonizing struggle before he dies
before the helpless eyes of fellow concentration camp inmates. Where is God as
this transpires? The reader reports hearing one voice saying that God was
the one hanging there on the gallows. Reader No. 5 has a haunting question
of God: not just individuals but whole communities were murdered.
"But have they become united with you in eternal life, or have you become
united with them in their eternal deaths?"
Reader No. 6 is the angriest of all. "For the time being choose
another people; we have run out of blood for victims..." this reader tells
God. The reader also accuses God of being an abusive father, adding "Avinu
Malkenu, you have sinned before us." Reader No. 6 also suggests
that theology was one of the biggest victims of the Holocaust—"the Jews
who died in the Shoah have now come to be like their God, who has no likeness of
a body and has no body."
The last part of the service—the Seven Blessings—may be recited by the
readers or any members of the congregation. They praise God for creating a world
reflecting God's glory, for fashioning humanity, for helping mourners find
happiness in their children, for causing bride and groom to rejoice.
Before the wine glass is placed on the floor, Reader No.
3—who previously said the threat between humanity and God was broken—
recants this belief by pronouncing the final blessing:
"God, you created the fruit of the vine to make the
human heart happy, to sanctify those days that are holy between us, to celebrate
the wedding of bride and groom. Yet on this day, dedicated to the memory of
those murdered in the Shoah, we cannot celebrate or rejoice. To their blood,
with which they sanctified their relationship with you, we add our tears. That
must suffice."
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