Does Cosmology Matter?

In the vast tapestry of human history, one thing remains constant: our desire to comprehend the cosmos and our place within it. From ancient manuscripts like The Huarochirí Manuscript to significant texts like the Book of Exodus, cosmology has influenced societies, cultures, and belief systems. As we navigate the complexities of our existence, one question arises: does cosmology matter? This inquiry goes beyond intellectual curiosity, delving into the heart of human identity and purpose.

As a devoted CBC listener, I keep my radio tuned in nearly 24 hours a day. It has become a comforting companion, even during the silent night hours. One morning, a program captivated my attention with its focus on reading The Huarochirí Manuscript. This ancient document, a rare record of the Quechua tribe in the Andes of Peru, was compiled by Francisco de Vila, a Catholic monk, in the late 1500s to “eliminate idolatries” among the conquered South American peoples. Hidden in a Spanish monastery for many years, it was only recently unearthed. Scholars emphasize its significance as a tool for reviving and reconstructing Andean metaphysics, distinct from ours. Notably, one narrative in the manuscript places the past in front of us and the future behind us.

These historical documents reveal that the people of 16th-century Peru or 1500 BC Egypt were not as different from us as we may think. Each society had its unique worldview, and language was vital in expressing these perspectives.

The Book of Exodus, with its profound insights into the cosmology of the Jewish God and people, is another significant work. Christian Pastor Chuck Swindoll reviews the themes in this impactful book, adding to the rich tapestry of human understanding across cultures and centuries.

The overall theme of Exodus is redemption—how God delivered the Israelites and made them His special people. After He rescued them from slavery, God provided the Law, which gave instructions on how the people could be consecrated or made holy. He established a system of sacrifice, which guided them in appropriate worship behaviour. Just as significantly, God provided detailed directions on the building of His tabernacle, or tent. He intended to live among the Israelites and manifest His shekinah glory (Exodus 40:34–35)—another proof that they were indeed His people.

The Mosaic Covenant unveiled initially through the Decalogue (Ten Commandments), provides the foundation for the beliefs and practices of Judaism, from common eating practices to complex worship regulations. Through the Law, God says that all of life relates to God. Nothing is outside His jurisdiction.

In my interpretation, the essence of the Book of Exodus lies in imparting insights into Jewish cosmology—how Jews perceive the world and comprehend the role of God in human affairs.

At the heart of the narrative is the pivotal character of the Jewish God. The divine encounter unfolds as God reveals Himself initially to Moses through the burning bush, expressing awareness of the Hebrews’ cries and appointing Moses to lead them out of Egypt. God imparts various names to Moses. When Moses, in his hesitation, questions his suitability, God reassures him, saying, ‘For I will be with you, and this is the sign that I sent you: when you lead the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain’ (Exodus 3:12).

As the narrative progresses, God introduces Himself to the community gathered at Mount Sinai, commencing with the powerful word ‘anochi.’ This signifies a significant moment of divine revelation, reinforcing the profound connection between God and the people and illuminating the overarching themes of the Jewish cosmological perspective embedded in the Book of Exodus.

“I, anochi, am the Lord your God, who liberated you from the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage.” (Exodus 20:2)

Following this proclamation, the Decalogue unfolds in the text (Exodus 20:3-14), referred to in Hebrew as the “ten utterances” or “aseret hadibrot.” Against the backdrop of a trembling mountain enveloped in smoke and fire, the resonating sound of the shofar adds a sense of awe to this pivotal moment in the narrative.

We are presented with a God (note: “G-d” is often used in Jewish tradition to avoid writing out the full name out of reverence) who possesses the qualities of attentiveness, compassion, and a commitment to justice. This divine entity hears, sees, and imparts a code of conduct designed to cultivate a world characterized by justice and compassion—realizing the ideal of “on Earth as it is in Heaven.”

At the heart of this perspective lies Jewish cosmology, which diverges from a preoccupation with the world’s physical attributes. Instead, it centers on the fate of humanity and God’s pivotal role in shaping that destiny. With its intricate narrative structure, the Torah serves as a profound educational tool, unveiling the nature of the Jewish God and His complex relationships with Israel, humanity, and the entirety of creation.

The morning following my engagement with The Huarochirí Manuscript, another CBC Ideas program shed light on the application of pseudo-archaeology. This exploration unveiled instances where pseudo-archaeological narratives have been manipulated to further political and cultural agendas, sometimes even blurring into the creation of religious myths.

We learn that in the bookstores of the sixties, those of the flower children, and those of the far right, both are populated by invented mythologies, filled with conspiracy theories about how the world was created etc.

Invaders from Mars? Alligators? All of these elaborate ideologies are written down in books, and some have been seen in popular tv productions like the Twilight Zone. Both the alt-right and the far-left use these books to create their alternate visions of what’s wrong with the world and how to repair it.

Myths about Jews and blacks and the superior white race abound. A person who lived in this alternate reality has also created a podcast about his experience and bears powerful witness to the truth that in the absence of a clear cosmology, people will create one to feel grounded and safe in the world.

Cosmologies lay the foundation for political ideologies, fuel conflicts, and serve as guiding principles that shape human history.

In the labyrinth of human experience, cosmology emerges as a guiding beacon, illuminating the path of understanding and shaping the contours of our shared reality. From the sacred narratives of ancient civilizations to the pseudo-archaeological myths of modernity, cosmologies weave a rich tapestry of beliefs, values, and ideologies. As we reflect on the significance of cosmology, let us recognize its power to inspire, unite, and transform. For in the quest to comprehend the cosmos lies the essence of our humanity—a perpetual journey of exploration, discovery, and wonder.

 

Footnotes

  1. CBC-Ideas, “The Huarochirí Manuscript,” broadcasted on February 6, 2023. Correction: “broadcast” should be replaced with “broadcasted.”
  2. Chuck Swindoll provides an overview of Exodus in his renowned series, “God’s Masterwork,” available at insight.org. No grammatical errors.
  3. The spelling “G-d” is employed by Jews when writing about the Divine to prevent inadvertently violating the prohibition against “taking God’s Name in vain,” as stipulated in the third of the Ten Commandments. No grammatical errors.
  4. “On Earth as it is in Heaven,” Matthew 6:10, referenced in The Lord’s Prayer. No grammatical errors.
  5. CBC-Ideas delves into the intersection of pseudo-archaeology, political agendas, and cultural ideas, exploring the blurry boundary between pseudo-science and religious myth-making—broadcasted on February 7, 2023.

 

Redemption in Our Time: The Power of Education

In the aftermath of International Holocaust Remembrance Day, we are compelled to reflect on the journey of redemption undertaken by the Jewish people since the liberation of Auschwitz in 1945. This reflection allows us to analyze two significant movements that have taken place over the past seven decades. One manifestation is the enduring establishment of the State of Israel, a testament to resilience and fortitude. Another important redemption, which is perhaps less widely recognized but equally profound, is the widespread pursuit of Jewish education.

As we delve into the power of education, we encounter stories of personal transformation that transcend geographical and religious boundaries. This redemption finds a poignant symbol in a dear friend of mine—a Quebecois-raised Catholic residing in Montreal. She discovered Judaism through weekly Torah study online with a French-speaking Rabbi in Jerusalem. Although she has not undergone conversion, she attests that this study has profoundly enriched her life. I vividly remember being one of the first Jews she encountered when, at her teacher’s suggestion, she ventured to a synagogue to meet Jewish individuals in person.

Historical Parallels

Such educational engagements evoke historical parallels, notably the “convivencia” of ninth and tenth-century Spain—a golden age where Judaism, Christianity, and Islam intersected harmoniously. Alton Brooks, a Professor of Religion at USC, characterizes this era as a rare period when the three religions coexisted without distance or conflict. In our present time, the proliferation of Jewish text study among diverse communities mirrors this historical convergence, reminiscent of the intellectual richness found in Córdoba’s libraries.

The notion of redemption extends beyond the Jewish community. I perceive the expansive study of Jewish texts as a potential pathway to redemption for our contemporary world. This sentiment aligns with the spirit of “convivencia,” where diverse cultural and religious influences coalesce to foster intellectual and social well-being.

Recently, I delved into Thomas Cahill’s work, “The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels.” As a Roman Catholic scholar, Cahill explores the transformative impact of the Jewish narrative on world history. Drawing parallels with his other works on the Irish, Christianity, and the Middle Ages, Cahill emphasizes the pivotal role of Judaism in shaping the ideological landscape.

Cahill’s book begins by examining the civilizations that existed before Judaism and how they influenced the Jewish story. He compares Israel to the Greek and Roman civilizations and shows how the combination of ideas from all three civilizations resulted in scientific and artistic progress. Despite later claims of ideological superiority by Christianity and Islam, Cahill highlights the periods in history when these civilizations coexisted peacefully, such as the Islamic “convivencia” in Spain, the European Renaissance, and the Victorian Age in England.

“The Jews gave us the “outside and the Inside” – our outlook and inner life. We can hardly get up in the morning or cross the street without being Jewish. We dream dreams and hope Jewish hopes. Most of our best words, in fact, new, adventure, time, history, future, freedom, progress, spirit, faith, hope, justice – are the gifts of the Jews…

Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone. That accomplishment is intergenerational may be the deepest of all Hebrew insights.*2″

Cahill’s exploration underscores the importance of embracing diverse perspectives and narratives—an approach that echoes the historical periods of fruitful coexistence. As we navigate the complexities of our contemporary world, the profound study of Jewish texts stands as a beacon, offering a potential path to redemption and intellectual enrichment for all.

My Educational Journey

I had a mixed educational experience, both in secular and Jewish schools. Although I grew up in a religious household, I ended up attending an English Protestant school in Quebec because of the limitations imposed by the province’s education system. It’s interesting to note that only Protestant schools were truly open to all students, as Catholic institutions would not accept non-Christian Jewish children.

This dual existence in different worlds left me grappling with my identity. While I spoke English and interacted with English-speaking teachers, I wasn’t English. My social circle comprised Hungarian Jewish immigrants, and the anomaly in my school was the Christian child. My closest connection with an English Protestant individual was my high school art teacher, Helen Mackey, whose influence remained with me throughout her long life in Montreal.

As my peers and I graduated early from high school, I embarked on a brief stint at McGill University but felt lost and disconnected. Desiring a departure from Quebec and my familiar surroundings, I dreamed of studying in Lausanne, Switzerland. However, my plans took a different turn when my mother insisted on Israel as the destination for further education, leading me to earn my BA from the Hebrew University in Jerusalem.

My Jewish education, woven from various threads, encompassed home teachings, synagogue rituals, Sabbath youth groups, Jewish summer camps, and Hebrew afternoon school. Only recently have I delved into consistent study of Hebrew texts through Shiviti, a newly established Yeshiva for adult women in Jerusalem.

I have come to appreciate the vast range of topics that our rabbis explored through my studies. Professor Yoram Hazony’s seminar on ‘The Really Big Questions About Judaism’ brought to light the unfortunate tendency of disregarding the Hebrew Bible in today’s intellectual climate. However, this ancient text is a valuable source of ideas and utilizes various literary devices, including metaphors and fantasies.

Education as a Unifying Force

Our canonical texts, examined with intergenerational commentators like Rashi and Maimonides, reveal a treasure trove of wisdom. Watching the documentary series “Searching for Maimonides, The Great Eagle” allowed me to appreciate the philosopher born in Spain, revered by multiple faiths, and showcased the interplay between past and present, text and context.

I believe education begins at home and extends to various public venues, encompassing schools, libraries, concerts, movies, and the internet—a collective resource accessible to people of all ages and backgrounds. Access to education serves as the great equalizer, offering opportunities for engagement in the extraordinary tapestry of life.

I contend this is the path to shared redemption: an education that fosters peace and harmony in our homes, nations, and the world. Humanity can confront any challenge or calamity that may arise through unity and harmony.

Throughout our individual journeys, education acts as a unifying force that ties together diverse experiences and perspectives. Whether we learn within academic institutions or in the comfort of our own homes, the pursuit of knowledge provides a pathway to redemption and unity. As we face the challenges of our modern world, we must recognize the value of education and its transformative power to promote peace, understanding, and harmony.

 

Footnotes

  1. “Convivencia” refers to the coexistence of various religious and cultural groups in medieval Spain. For more information, see Wikipedia.
  2. Thomas Cahill explores the cultural impact of Judaism in his book, “The Gifts of the Jews” (1998).
  3. SHIVITI is an international online women’s learning community with its primary hub in Jerusalem. For further details, visit shiviti.org.il.
  4. Delve into profound inquiries about Judaism with Prof. Yoram Hazony in his Zoom seminar series, “The Really Big Questions About Judaism.”

 

A Season of Miracles and Light

The holiday season is a time to celebrate the miracles that surround us.

  • The power of electricity is a miraculous force that illuminates our homes and public spaces.
  • The miracle of cars and interconnected roads has brought swift global connectivity within our reach.
  • Every time I step onto an airplane, the awe-inspiring miracle of flight captivates me.
  • Film and the internet are enchanting miracles that fuel communication on a grand and intimate scale across the world.
  • The profound miracle of love lies at the core of peace in our homes and the world.

My Recent Miracles

Miracle 1: Securing an Apartment in Jerusalem

In recent years, my visits to Israel have been a mix of extended family holidays and immersive studies at Shiviti and Simhat Shlomo. These are two respected unaccredited Jewish universities that are committed to exploring Jewish texts, practices, and history for adults.

During my last visit to Jerusalem in April, I searched for a place to live. While there were several options, the financial aspect was challenging. However, I came across a significantly more affordable apartment than the others, although it lacked luxurious amenities like a swimming pool or gym. This apartment was in a peaceful residential neighbourhood in Jerusalem, close to the bustling Emek Refaim Street with famous shops and cafes. It was also conveniently located not far from my favourite cinemas.

Acquiring the apartment from a distance was difficult, so I travelled to Israel immediately after the Jewish Fall Holidays on October 19th, 2022. Over the next five weeks, I could take possession of the apartment and transform it into a livable space. This was an incredible accomplishment, especially given the odds against me.

Apartment in Jerusalem, Israel

Apartment in Jerusalem, Israel.

Miracle 2: Strolling through the Revitalized Streets of Jerusalem

During my time as a student at Hebrew University from 1965 to 1969, Jerusalem was a city where walking was the primary mode of transportation. However, during my recent visit, I was amazed by the transformation that had taken place. The city had undergone incredible expansion and rejuvenation, with buses, trains, tunnels, and superhighways connecting its suburbs to all the major cities of Israel, including Ben Gurion International Airport.

Before 1967, Jews were not allowed to access the ancient walled city of Jerusalem or the Western Wall, which is surrounded by the remaining outer wall of the ancient courtyard that once housed Solomon’s Temple.

Located near Ben Yehudah Street in the vibrant Kikar Hamusika district.

In the period before the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, Jerusalem was a small town with only two main streets – Yaffo and Ben Yehudah. However, today, things have changed dramatically. Yaffo Street, a gateway to the Old City, now has a train running through it. Ben Yehudah Street has also transformed and has become a pedestrian mall. The center of the street is adorned with cafe tables, while diverse shops are situated on either side. A snapshot of a pedestrian haven near Ben Yehuda, Kikar Hamusika, showcases a charming square with tables, restaurants, and a main stage featuring live music performances. More often than not, this adds a dynamic and vibrant layer to the city’s contemporary charm.

Miracle 3: Reconnecting with old friends

On the day after I arrived in Jerusalem, I received a delightful surprise from my brother-in-law, Shragai. He told me that our friend Barbara Friedman, from Montreal, was hosting a gathering of fellow Montrealers in her apartment and had kindly invited me to join. This unexpected reunion provided me with a rare and precious opportunity to catch up with old friends, one of whom brought a guitar along.

Amid the convivial atmosphere, we sang various songs, including a whimsical children’s tune about Noah’s Ark, where animals entered “two by two.” The song’s timing felt particularly poignant, as it was the Friday before the Sabbath. During this sacred time, we explored the biblical story of Noah building the ark at the divine command, a vessel designed to protect his family and the animals from the pervasive immorality that had engulfed society during that era.

A gathering of Montrealers in the heart of Jerusalem.

Miracle 4: Immersing in the European Cantors Convention in Budapest

On November 1st, I travelled from Israel to Hungary to attend the European Cantors Convention at the Rumbach Street Synagogue in Budapest. The area holds personal significance for me because it is where my parents married during World War II.

To capture the essence of the event, I hired a local cameraman to document it. I also explored Hungary with my cousins and learned about our family’s personal history.

At the convention, I had the opportunity to interview several notable cantors, including Cantor Benny Meisels, Cantor Deborah Katcko-Grey, and Cantor Leah Frey Rabiner. I also spoke with important figures involved in the convention, such as Harriet Kiss, the director of the Rumbach Synagogue, Geraldine Auerbach and Alex Klein, who led the event.

These conversations and experiences will be the basis for a documentary about the European Cantors Convention. The convention also included panel discussions and concerts, adding depth and meaning to the event.

Tehila Umiel, my cousin from Los Angeles, accompanied me to the ECA, and together, we embarked on a journey of familial exploration.

My cousin Rachel Kaufman and I at Rumbach Synagogue

Rachel Kaufman, my cousin, and I visited the Rumbach Synagogue together.

The European Cantors Convention was held at the Rumbach Synagogue.

Miracle 5: Rediscovering Our Family Heritage in Hungary

Rachel, Tehila, Tehila’s daughter, Effy Fadida from Israel, and I went on a pilgrimage to the ancestral lands of their Hungarian Jewish forefathers. We visited Tokay, Szabolcs, Kereztur, and Debrecen in Hungary, and local guides helped us understand the history and familial connections intertwined with these places.

In Kereztur, we found solace and reverence in the memory of the late Hassidic Rebbe Reb Shiele, who once lived there. We enjoyed kosher meals that nourished both body and soul amidst the embrace of tradition and echoes of the past. Today, Kereztur remains a beacon of hospitality, welcoming pilgrims worldwide and carrying forward the legacy of unity and kinship that transcends time and borders.

Effy FadidaAndRachelKaufman

Effy Fadida and Rachel Kaufman aboard the train bound for Tokay.

During our stay in Tokay, we visited the Rebbe’s resting place at night and paid our respects after dinner. The following day, we spent time with our relatives in Debrecen who had survived the aftermath of the Shoah. Our experience in Debrecen was recorded in the Hungarian Jewish Debrecen Community Bulletin, where I provided an English translation of our visit.

The Széchenyi Street bakeshop and its baker, Sándor Hirsch (Sanyi Hirsch, my late father’s brother), still live on in the memory of the elders of Debrecen. Descendants of his family, Rachel (Kaufman), Tehila (Umiel), Abigail (Hirsch), and Effy (Fadida) from America, Canada, and Israel, visited our community last week. First, they remembered their dead and visited the cemetery. Later, the family’s path led to the old wood-burning bakery. Although the religious community no longer owns this bakery, the oven still functions today as it did then. Ilonka Zsabolci (a Debrecen resident and daughter of the late Sandor Hirsch who grew up in one of the adjacent apartments) recalled every point of the bake shop precisely, just as our elders can recall their daily conversations and the aroma of the five-kilo loaves of bread that emanated from here during the 70s and 80s.

Ilonka also recalled families bringing their Sabbath cholent to the bake shop on Friday afternoon, and Sandor (Sanyi) would ask them, “Do you want the cholent’s texture to be soupy or thick?” Then, according to their request, he would place the labelled containers in the oven closer or further away from the flame.

Around the corner from the bakeshop at the intersection of István Tisza Boulevard and Simony Street #28 used to stand the compound of the late patriarch Samu Hirsch (Shlomo Yisroel, my grandfather, who perished in Auschwitz). There is no longer any trace of that compound. It has been torn down, and a modern apartment building is in place.

After our tour, we shared a joint lunch at the “Mazal Tov” restaurant of the Debrecen religious community. Gyuri Lázár from Los Angeles – formerly from Debrecen – joined us with his wife, Maggie. Gyuri is a member of a family still living in Debrecen. He left Hungary to study in the US and has lived in Los Angeles ever since. He happened to be visiting Hungary and is related to Rachel Kaufman’s father, Joshua Kaufman, who is also the son of a prewar Debrecen family.

During lunch, we shared memories and photographs.

After lunch, Abigail (Ágnes) Hirsch went over to the club room of the Rachel Women’s Association to get to know the local members. Unfortunately, they rarely have guests from Canada. Unfortunately, the visit was short because there was not much time before their train returned to Budapest.

Of course, the Jewish Quarter, with its synagogues and Holocaust Memorial Wall, was not to be missed. Family members were recalled everywhere.

Tehila and Effi, pictured here, could find Tehila’s father’s name – Bela Hirsch – carved into the memorial wall, which lists all of the Jews from Debrecen who were deported and died during this time, never to return.

The past came back and was moving for the religious community and the Hirsch family. Their stay in Hungary, including their commemoration in Debrecen, was filmed by a professional cameraman (Banki Zoltan). Abigail is working to integrate their family history into the history of the Jewish community in Hungary. The religious community is looking for additional materials for this. It will be a lasting reminder of the past and the present.

Written by Gabor Kreisler (who graciously served as our guide throughout the day, appointed by the Debrecen Jewish community).

Thank you, Gabor!

Miracle 6: Resilience of My Christmas Cactus

I was pleasantly surprised to find my Christmas cactus blooming beautifully after I arrived in Montreal. Thanks to a talented local plant expert, the cactus was transplanted with great care.

In this time of darkness, we can find hope in the simplest things. Even small lights can shine brightly, and a determined few can overcome great challenges, just like the Maccabees did.

May our homes be filled with peace and joy for this holiday season.

Am Yisrael chai – The People of Israel are alive!
Am Yisrael thrives!
And when Am Yisrael thrives, the world thrives!

I wish everyone a happy and meaningful holiday season, wherever you may be.

With warmth,
Abigail

In Montreal once more, donning my festive sweater as I join the Chanukah sing-along concert “Latkes and Lyrics” at the Segal Centre.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two solitudes: Language and the 2022 Quebec Election

My native language is Hungarian since I was born in Debrecen, Hungary.
At the age of three, I escaped communist Hungary with my parents and baby sister to Vienna, Austria, where I began to attend kindergarten and spoke German in no time.

Photo of Abigail Hirsch in Vienna at the Rothschild hospital displaced persons camp post World War II.

By age six, we had arrived as a family in Montreal, and I began studying in the English Protestant school system, the only public school system accepting Jewish children. So I became an Anglophone in Quebec. In the Protestant English school, we began to study French and Latin in the third grade and all through high school. At the same time, I attended the Jewish afternoon school, where I was learning to read Hebrew and Yiddish, my 6th and 7th languages.

I hardly ever met a French-speaking person when I was growing up in Montreal in the fifties and sixties. This reality is indicative of what has been called the “two solitudes.” The English and the French communities were segregated on either side of Saint Lawrence Boulevard, now called by its French name, Saint-Laurent. As a high school student, I went to the French section with my friend Milly. We used to visit the Montreal Public Library on Sherbrooke street across from Parc La Fontaine. That was like visiting a foreign country, where only French was spoken.

It’s not as if my parents or I had a lot of contact with the English Protestant community of Montreal. Most of the Bancroft Elementary School students were Jewish immigrants like me. And most of my parents’ social circle were similarly Hungarian Jewish immigrants. For example, here is a picture of my one shared birthday party with my sister, Anita, in 1956 with the whole neighbourhood of children and adults invited.

Abigail at ten years old and Anita Hirsch at eight years old.

Abigail Hirsch’s Birthday Party

Today I participate in French classes and conversations. I even took a French literature class at McGill, but English is my best language. It is my favoured language to speak, read and write. This is understandable since most of my schooling was in English.

Since my childhood, the public school system has been reorganized. Today all public schools are neither Catholic nor Protestant but secular, and the language of instruction is French. The English public school system survives, but only for a privileged group who can claim a native English-Quebec origin, and even this is under threat by the Legault government.

Note that upper-class French-Quebecers try to ensure that their children acquire excellent English, which is only to be expected since the world’s finances and culture are today dominated by the English of the United States. For instance, Paul St-Pierre Plamondon, the current leader of the Parti Québécois, graduated from McGill and Oxford University.

It is vital to address immigration and how to best integrate immigrants into Quebec society. However, Legault has been using used the immigrant card as the new scapegoat to gain political support. Does Premier Legault forget who has been saving our collective behinds in hospitals, CHSLDs, and frontline services for the past three years when he considers immigrants and non-francophone Quebecers as a threat to social cohesion?

In reality, the contributions of the Quebec Anglophone community and immigrants should not be undervalued.

Faced with what is happening in Ukraine and Russia and climate disasters everywhere, is it wise to be so divisive? Isn’t there a more welcoming way to introduce French culture to newly arrived immigrants? Isn’t it more beneficial to  Quebec society to focus on how immigrants – the majority of whom have extensive knowledge, training, and worldly life experience, can move to Quebec’s outlying regions where they are sorely needed to fill critical labour shortages and, in turn, demystify immigration for rural Quebecers? And why not focus on other vital issues in our society, like the deplorable state of our health care system and the need to coordinate climate change initiatives?

I fear this stubborn effort to “protect the French language” will harm all of us living in Quebec.

 

Reconciliation and Healing: The Pope’s visit to Canada

The recent visit of the Pope to Canada was a significant moment in the journey towards reconciliation and healing for the Aboriginal Peoples of the nation. By acknowledging the historical atrocities inflicted upon Indigenous communities through the residential school system, the Pope’s heartfelt apology aimed to address a dark chapter in Canadian history.

These schools, operating from the 19th century until 1996 under the auspices of clergy and the Canadian government, were integral to a plan to convert First Nations children to Christianity and assimilate them into Western ideals. Approximately 150,000 Inuit and Métis children forcibly enrolled in these government-funded and church-administered residential schools endured a tragic legacy. The educators, often ill-equipped for the task, subjected the children to physical and sexual abuse, leading to numerous deaths and the recent discovery of unmarked graves. Beyond the immediate suffering, the removal of children from their biological families had profound and lasting intergenerational effects.

In the ensuing twenty-five years, the Canadian government has tried to confront and acknowledge the grievous impact of this dark chapter in history. As I’ve listened to the personal narratives of First Nation communities on national radio and TV, I’ve gained a profound appreciation for their wisdom and rich cultural heritage.

Commendable Initiatives:

Indigenous peoples have spearheaded various commendable initiatives showcasing their history, art, music, and revitalization efforts for native languages. Notably, the CBC program “Unreserved” has featured insightful radio shows:

Reflecting on these impactful programs, I wish for similar platforms within media outlets like CBC to shed light on the Jewish community. This could serve as a means to acquaint more Canadians with the Jewish people’s traditions, history, and vibrant cultural tapestry.

Shared Trauma: Jewish Perspective on Reconciliation

As a Jew, I deeply empathize with the struggles of the First Nations as they grapple with the devastation wrought upon their communities. Having grown up as the child of parents persecuted in Hungary during World War II solely for being Jewish, I am intimately acquainted with the enduring pain experienced by subsequent generations. My own life has been marked by the trauma inflicted upon my family by Nazi persecution, resulting in the untimely loss of parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins. This sorrow unfortunately perpetuates through successive generations.

Jews, too, have been direct victims of colonial policies imposed by Christian rulers. An illustrative example is the Czarist decree of August 26, 1827, which mandated military service for Jews and conscription into Russian Cantonist schools, subjecting Jewish boys as young as eight to twenty-five years of military duty.

All cantonists were institutionally underfed… The official policy was to encourage Jewish boys to convert to the state religion of Orthodox Christianity.

The media’s discourse on the Pope’s apology to the Indigenous community has sparked contemplation. In the post-Holocaust era, the Jewish community has grappled with the significance of apologies for unspeakable horrors. In Rabbinic thinking, the injured party has the prerogative to accept or reject an apology for inflicted pain or damage. Nevertheless, leaders’ acknowledgment, remorse, and appropriate reparations are indispensable for fostering social healing between communities in conflict.

In my lifetime, I witnessed the Catholic Church taking responsibility by renouncing its historical demonization of Jews. This acknowledgment of its contribution to the destruction of Jewish communities over the centuries culminated in Pope Paul VI’s encyclical “Nostra Aetate,” issued on October 28, 1965. This pivotal declaration, passed by an overwhelming majority of assembled bishops, emphasized the Church’s rejection of hatred, persecution, and antisemitism against Jews, motivated not by political considerations but by the spiritual love espoused in the Gospel.

“… the Church, mindful of the patrimony she shared with the Jews and moved not by political reasons but by the Gospel’s spiritual love, decries hatred, persecutions, and displays of antisemitism, directed against Jews at any time and by anyone.”

This marked an essential beginning of reconciliation between Jews and Catholics. Another significant milestone occurred on May 25-26, 2014, when Pope Francis visited Israel, further deepening the evolving relationship between the Catholic Church, Israel, and the Jewish people. Promoting collective mutual understanding and dispelling stereotypes and prejudice are most effectively achieved through grassroots interactions and dialogue.

One noteworthy instance of reconciliation among Christians, Jews, and the Aboriginal People of Canada unfolded during my attendance at a church service in Winnipeg. This unique event, organized by Pastor Rudy Fidel of Faith Church, a steadfast supporter of Jews, Israel, and First Nations, brought together Cantor Moshe Kraus, a Holocaust survivor, two First Nations Chiefs, and a Klezmer band for a Sunday morning service. I was privileged to document this remarkable occasion and am pleased to share highlights with you. The program featured:

Two First Nations Chiefs:

  • From 1:01 to 2:11 minutes, Jim Baird, Chief of Leech Lake of the Ojibwe Nation, introduced Grand Chief Jerry, who was recently elected as the Grand Chief of Thirty-two Nations.
  • From 2:11 to 7:42 minutes, Grand Chief Jerry addressed the audience, providing insights into his community’s current affairs.

Hazzan Moshe Kraus:

  • At 10:32-20:58 min, Cantor Kraus recounted a poignant incident from 1942 in Budapest. At the request of a Hungarian Bishop from Potok, Moshe assisted in securing the release of the Bishop’s colleague and Moshe’s cousin, a Rabbi in Potok, who was incarcerated in Budapest.

In a world scarred by historical injustices and intergenerational trauma, the journey towards reconciliation and healing is a collective endeavor. Past injustices left scars that have been passed down from generation to generation. In order to confront these legacies, society needs to come together and acknowledge the past, promote empathy, and dismantle oppressive systems. Healing involves creating safe spaces for dialogue, investing in mental health resources, and supporting cultural revitalization. Ultimately, only through mutual understanding and collective action can we create a more equitable and compassionate future.