The American Jewish community is still reeling from the attack on a Reform temple in the Detroit area. Thankfully, no one was killed on March 12 other than the attacker, though several first-responders were injured. It’s a near miracle that roomfuls of children in the building that afternoon got our safely with teachers and synagogue staff.
As I write this, Jews throughout the United States are preparing for Shabbat.
This Shabbat is called Shabbat Hachodesh. It takes its name from the beginning of the special maftir (last Torah section) that is read before the month of Nisan begins, the month in which Passover is observed. The section itself, Exodus 12:1-20, contains the first Passover commandments: slaughtering a lamb on the 14th day of the month, smearing its blood on the doorposts, roasting its flesh, and eating it hastily in family gatherings with matzah and bitter herbs.
But preceding these particulars is the commandment to take the designated lamb and watch it for four days. Just watch it. Tie it up, and don’t do anything to it yet. Just watch it.
It does seem a bit unusual to be told to “do something by doing nothing,” and one might imagine folks back in Egypt responding to Moses: “You want us to do what?”
The Torah text itself does not explain the need to wait several days before the animals are to be slaughtered. However, the Talmudic sage R. Masya ben Charash offers that after years in Egypt, the Jewish people had become so assimilated that they had no real merit that would justify their being redeemed.
God gave them two commandments, both involving blood: the commandment to smear lamb’s blood on the doorposts of their houses and the commandment of circumcision, which had been neglected in Egypt. Since the obligation of partaking in the Passover sacrifice could only be done by males who were circumcised, the procedure was done on the 10th to allow several days for the newly circumcised males to heal before offering the sacrifice.
Two commandments calling for blood, only a couple of days after Jewish blood was nearly shed again. We are already poignantly aware of how true the words are that we will soon be reciting at our Passover seder tables: “In every generation, some rise up to destroy us … .”
Yet we are still divided on how to adequately respond. Of course, the recent truck-ramming by an armed immigrant-turned-U.S. citizen in West Bloomfield, Mich., is a call to redouble our efforts to secure our institutions and ensure that they have the technology and staffing required. Indeed, trained manpower saved the day at Temple Israel.
But those who thwarted the attack were professionals, hired by an institution that could afford them. Not every Jewish institution is so fortunate. And even the professionals may not be enough to stop someone focused on the intent to do harm.
It again raises the issue of training laity with firearms, if necessary, at least as a supplement for the professionals. Yet whenever this idea is raised to clergy and lay leaders, the response is too often as incredulous as the one that the Jews in Egypt might have given Moses: “You want us to do what?”
Sometimes, the incredulity is accompanied by dismissal, sadness or anger. My own attempts at getting our local leadership to offer training to community members have so far been politely ignored. In the hours following the Detroit incident, a friend’s suggestion that a firearms training program be sponsored by the Jewish Federation was met with an indignant, “Please refrain from giving your unsolicited advice.”
With the month of Nisan coming, preparing for Passover is upon us. Our ancestors’ initial preparation of just watching the lamb was so easy that it may have seemed ludicrous. At this moment, adequate preparation for what may come may seem doesn’t seem easy at all. Still, it’s time to consider new approaches because the old ones aren’t working.
Regardless of how ludicrous the command might have seemed to our ancestors and how incredulous they might have felt, they obeyed. Current circumstances dictate that when it comes to Jews being armed and properly trained, we put our own incredulity and indignation aside, and embrace “this new thing.”
Lives might depend on it.
