A chip on this Jew’s shoulder
Last Friday morning, my youngest daughter attended a school ceremony at one of the local synagogues with the rest of her classmates. The synagogue’s Rabbi presented her and her friends with her second grade version of the Book of Genesis, covered nicely with blue velvet with gold lettering (supplied by the parents, of course!). This ceremony marks the beginning of Bible study. It is a symbolic ceremony and has no religious significance. The Rabbi, who just happens to be an influential national figure, spoke at length about the “People of the Book”. I doubt if the seven year olds understood much of it. The parents seemed to be too busy excitedly taking photos to notice or care.

One of the young recipients of the book was a non-Jewish classmate of my daughter, who, I think, is from a country in East Asia (I’m not sure which one - my daughter can’t remember; I’m too shy to ask his mother and don’t like to gossip by asking other mothers or the teacher). He looked very cute with a big white kippa clipped on his head, along with the other boys.

I commented to Bish that I would have refrained from sending my daughter to a similar ceremony in a church, had we been living abroad. Bish replied that this is mainly a social event for the (largely secular) children. He added that the child’s parents obviously don’t feel as threatened by Jewish symbols, as we feel by Christian ones.

Some years ago, an Israeli balladeer with a wonderful voice, called Ahinoam Nini (her name is a bit difficult for Western ears so in the West she goes by the name of Noa), sang “Ava Maria” to the Pope and an audience of a hundred thousand Catholic worshippers, in the Vatican. My first impression was WOW. But then I began to feel uncomfortable. Something I heard her say on the radio, recently, has led me to understand that her rendition of “Ava Maria” has, by now, become her trademark.

I really love Ahinoam Nini’s work. Many years ago, I lost an unborn child. Around the same time Ahinoam Nini released her version of the beautiful Hebrew poem, “Uri”, by poetess Rachel, about the son she never had. I still cry when I hear her sing this song. (The real name of the poem is “Barren Woman”, by the way. I couldn’t find an English translation).

But the “Ava Maria” thing offends me. I’ve looked up the words. They are very beautiful. I am sure they have given great comfort to countless Christians the world around for centuries, in times of pain and suffering. But for a Jew and an Israeli to sing a prayer to the mother of God (which to a believing Jew is the worst kind of sacrilege) in the Vatican, displays a lack of understanding for the terrible suffering endured by millions of Jews at the hands of Christians, in Europe, for centuries, in the name of Mary and Jesus.

I am not saying not to forgive. I think we already have done. I am not saying things have not greatly changed in this respect. They have, even given reports of a recent awakening of some anti-Semitic sentiment in Europe and elsewhere. I am not saying we should not strive to live in peace with the descendants of our historical tormentors. Of course we should. There is no question of that. But I am saying that it would do to be more sensitive. There are other beautiful songs she could have sung that are not prayers to the Virgin Mary, mother of Jesus.

It seems she wasn’t very sensitive when she performed for the Pope at a later date, either. This time she apparently embarrassed everyone by wearing provocatively revealing clothes. The Pope reportedly averted his eyes. A beautiful voice does not automatically guarantee its owner the gift of tact, it seems.

The reason I have brought all this up is a beautiful prayer that Jen posted a few days ago. I have read and reread it many times. I find it very moving. But I have been dithering about posting it. This is because it is attributed to a Catholic saint. And not just any Catholic saint. I am understandably rather ignorant of the legacy of Saint Francis of Assisi, besides his liking animals and helping the poor.

Isn’t it strange that I should have no such qualms about the teachings of the Buddha? Maybe not. Buddhism, in its purer form, has nothing to do with the worship of a deity. It is quite possible for a religious Jew to practice Buddhism. I know a number of people who do this. Furthermore, Buddhists have never persecuted Jews or tried to convert them forcibly, to my knowledge.

Back to St. Francis: Searching the net, I discovered that the clergy of Assisi saved many Jews during the Holocaust.

Please allow me to share this beautiful prayer with you. It has wisdom far beyond the beliefs of this religion or that:


Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen