September 11th: Rosh Hashanah (and 9/11)
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
It was an honor to be invited to speak at a memorial service on Friday September 11th. Commemorating the 25th anniversary of the terrible attacks on our country is important, but, wow, the timing is really bad. The service will be on the morning of Erev Rosh Hashanah, and I have a million things to do. I shall, of course, make the time and participate in the service, but it will be really inconvenient. Inconvenient. Then again, is not inconvenience precisely the point?
Almost no one who woke up that day in New York or Washington (or Boston) imagined that the morning would be anything other than normal. And yet, when tragedy struck, firefighters, police, and rescue workers dropped everything and rushed to help. Civilians too responded when they could: helping evacuees, providing food and drinks for rescue workers, giving blood, and, as time went on, even joining the military and first response teams. It was all terribly inconvenient, but they interrupted their lives and rose to the challenges. There is something noble in the human spirit—a spark of the Divine within—that responds when others are in need. It is a blessing to be appreciated and one to be nurtured.
Speaking of inconvenience, the attacks came at a particularly inopportune time for Rabbis. That year, Rosh Hashanah was just six days later, and Rabbis across the country thought that they had their High Holy Day sermons ready to go. But whatever seemed important and pressing on September 10th was rendered much less so in the face of our national trauma. Sermon composition certainly pales in the face of the deep crises so many families faced, but, in our little Rabbinic world, that Saturday night was very busy as Rabbis all over the country rewrote their sermons and tried to help our people wrestle with the shocking evil and profound sadness.
Another problem I remember is that there were not enough clergy to attend to all the funerals and shiva minyans. That big accounting firm on the top floors of one of the towers (Cantor and Fitzgerald) employed lots of Jews, and many, many Jews worked in other offices in the World Trade Center. There were also hundreds of Jews among the police and firefighters. This all meant that our usual “tragedy infrastructure” was stretched beyond its capacity, and there was a call for Rabbis and Cantors from all over the Eastern Seaboard to come to the stricken areas, officiate at services, and comfort the grieving families. It was an already busy time of the Jewish year, but despite the terrible inconvenience, our community rallied together. We mourned our dead, comforted our mourners, and were present for our non-Jewish friends and neighbors who were also in the agony of their grief. In the midst of heartbreak, compassion was abundant. In times of crisis or emergency, we respond and we cope—and we depend on God to help us bridge the gaps that suddenly appear.
There are two Torah lessons I would draw from these memories.
(1) In his book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, Rabbi Harold Kushner writes about times when he simply did not have the strength to continue. Mentally, emotionally, and physically, he was unable to cope with the sadness of his son’s illness and death. With no strength or resilience left, he would drift off into despair. Later, when he somehow made it through the night, he realized that his own strength had not sustained him—that it was God. God was with him, helping him along an impossible path and providing the resilience that he himself could not muster. Perhaps this is what the Psalmist had in mind when he wrote: “In my distress I called on the Lord; and the Lord answered me and brought me relief.” (Psalm 118.5) I believe that the courage and resilience we saw on September 11, 2001, and in its aftermath was God helping us through a terrible, terrible crisis.
(2) Among the lessons in Akedat Yitzchak, our Rosh Hashanah Torah Portion, is that things can change very quickly. We depend on the ground beneath our feet being firm, but sometimes it is not. Isaac had no idea that a little trip with Dad would end up so existentially dramatic. Abraham, waking up just a few days earlier, had no idea of the ominous words that would come to him from the Lord—or the surprise reprieve that would be spoken by the Angel up on Mount Moriah. And Sarah? Sarah had no idea of the drama going on in her husband’s spirit—or of what he was planning to do with their beloved son. When all upon which we rely is shaky, Tradition urges us to look for foundations that are more eternal and solid. “When the Lord is at my side, I have no fear. What can humans do to me?” (Psalm 118.6)
One of the frustrating (and infuriating) ironies of faith is that it does not prevent suffering. Despite our faith, we suffer. And yet, when our time for sadness comes, our hope is that someone will drop everything and come to our aid—with assistance, emotional support, and love. There are many questions about God and where God may be when bad things happen to good people, but the one thing we know is that people can be God’s angels—spreading love and comfort and helping us bear the unbearable.
A final thought about inconvenience. The modern Catholic thinker, Fr. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, puts things in perspective when he famously observes: “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” When duty or compassion call, helping is not inconvenient; it is our holy purpose.
The 9/11 Memorial Service will be at Centre County Memorial Park (Benner Pike) at 10:00 AM on Friday September 11th. Sponsored by Haky/Georgiana Centre County Funeral Home, it will feature prayers and memorial thoughts by religious and political leaders. The public is invited.