|
Justice Robert H. Jackson, the chief American prosecutor, speaking before the International Military Tribunal in Nuremberg, declared in his opening remarks, "They have so identified themselves with the philosophies they conceived and with the forces they directed that any tenderness to them is a victory and an encouragement to all the evils which are attached to their names." Even as Justice Jackson spoke, a US Army chaplain, Henry Gerecke, a Lutheran minister, worked with the top Nazi leaders, to "make them worthy of receiving Holy Communion (Mission at Nuremberg, by Tim Townsend)."
Gerecke's work does not trouble me as much as did the priest who offered Adolph Eichmann absolution for a full confession of his sins. I admire the minister's faith and beliefs. I needed such faith in the power of Teshuvah to function as an effective prison chaplain in the Great Meadow Correctional Facility for murderers, rapists, and other types of violent criminals. I, as a rabbi, am not empowered to offer absolution or God's forgiveness, but as most of my inmates were, according to them, "completely innocent," my challenge was to offer them an opportunity to develop a relationship with God that would help them grow as human beings even while in such a horrible place.
I began to build my "congregation" by offering food, cigarettes, and developing a relationship with each inmate that was focused on the best parts of him. Our meetings were casual, and I couldn't find a way to seriously bring God into our gatherings.
Everything changed when one of my inmates died of Aids. While many religious figures were speaking of the devastating disease as Divine retribution, I decided to use this experience as an opportunity to bring God, in Merciful form, into the inmates' lives. I brought Tachrichin, the shrouds we use to honor the deceased, and taught my inmates how to perform a Taharah, the ritual purification of a body. We were granted permission to set aside a special area in the prison cemetery for Jews, and I took my inmates outside, under heavy guard, to perform the ceremony of Dedication of a Cemetery.
Our next gathering, a week later, was different. The inmates were empowered by performing the Taharah and dedicating the cemetery. They all experienced the first seed of developing a relationship with God (See,"Story Collectors"). I did not succeed in offering absolution - I never tried. I did succeed in offering the inmates a life in which, even while in prison, that could matter to them, to others, and, to God. I was not the priest meeting with Eichmann, nor the minister serving the Nazi's on trial in Nuremberg. I was emulating Moses at the conclusion of Sefer Vayikra:
In this week's portion, Bechukotai, we read of five stages of God's wrath when we treat our relationship with God, casually, as if our actions and service of God do not matter to God, or to us. The portion ends with our power to sanctify our possessions, our animals, our property, and ourselves. The Book of Vayikra-Leviticus concludes with, "These are the commandments that God commanded Moses to the Children of Israel on Mount Sinai (27:34)." "These," the Mitzvot that empower us to live with a sense of meaning, the Mitzvot that offer opportunities to accomplish meaningful things, are the Mitzvot that were presented at Sinai. Not simple actions that offer absolution and forgiveness, but opportunities to bring meaning into all we do.
The Foundation Stone is pleased to offer a Torah inspired and guided PAIRS seminar for marriages that want the opportunity for lasting meaning in their relationship. Please see http://thefoundationstone.org/pairs/.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Simcha L. Weinberg
President If you are interested in sponsoring our  winning Newsletter, please email info@thefoundationstone.org Go to our Blog  Follow us on Twitter   Become a Fan  |
