Turning Between Co-religionists and Others - Reflections on my participation in a Muslim schools conference Balak 2019

A bearded Muslim man, Dylan Chown, was talking to a woman with a face-veil. He paused his conversation with her and turned to greet me warmly.  Dylan then turned back to her and apologised, with real feeling in his voice:  “I am sorry that I was rude to you”. These brief interactions occurred as participants were arriving to the Australian Islamic Schooling Conference. I observed the exchange and thought: this is what Muslims call “Adab”. I had learned at the conference, that Adab was something more than mere manners. Adab might be described as a set of religious, respectful and sensitive practices. The two  ‘turnings’ (towards me and back towards her) can also be used as a metaphor for the challenge of balancing attending to the priorities of our faith communities, while also relating to people outside those communities.   

Afeefa Syeed, the founder of Al Fatih, a Muslim school in the American state of Virginia, spoke about an example of how her students expressed solidarity with oppressed fellow Muslims. They visited George Washington’s cemetery at Mt Vernon, as part of their study of History. They had learned that some of the “slaves” (or, perhaps more appropriately, enslaved people (1)) had been Muslims. They asked to be directed to where those slaves were buried. This request was met with surprise: “why would anyone be interested in seeing that?” The graves were neglected, but the students said a prayer there (2).

This anecdote touched me. Alongside our concerns for humanity, there is a need, and great virtue in solidarity with one’s own community, be that a community based on faith or place. One of the Torah’s villains, the evil prophet and sorcerer Balaam, is described as being “without a nation” (3). Furthermore, this absence of national or communal ties is deemed to be indicative of exclusion from heaven (4).

At the conference an Imam, an Australian Muslim school principal, a Catholic educator (5) and I conducted a breakout session together.  One activity involved exploring quotes from Islamic and Jewish sources with similar messages. One set of these quotes was the following pair:

……..and to parents do good, and to relatives, orphans, the needy, the near neighbor, the neighbor farther away, the companion at your side, the traveler, and those whom your right hands possess. (6)

...if a poor person and a rich person come to borrow money, the poor person takes precedence. ...If it is between one of the poor of your city and one of the poor of another city, the poor of your city takes precedence. (7)

In a similar vein, we heard how the Al Fatih students showed care for their non-Muslim neighbours by adopting and cleaning the road near their school for the benefit of all the locals and passing travellers. 

I told the conference that navigating my ties to my Jewish community and others has challenged me. I cited the verse: “You shall not mistreat, nor oppress the stranger, as you were strangers in [Pharaoh’s] Egypt” (8). As a younger man, I was good at embracing the second half of the verse, with my acute awareness of millenia of persecution of the Jews, including my own grandparents. It was only later in life that I engaged more strongly with the first and main point relating to the treatment of “strangers”. Justice for members of minority groups requires proper conduct not just in deed but even in word and thought.  Indeed the story of Balaam’s curses (9) is a dramatic example of how words, spoken or prevented from being said, matter.

Speaking positive words and thinking kind thoughts about “Strangers” can be difficult when there is conflict them and one’s own community. Afeefa shared an inspiring example of how her students engaged with people who appeared hostile. During the US presidential election many of her students felt concerned about how Muslims were being talked about by Trump. The students were encouraged to seek to understand, rather than demonise Trump supporters. They approached voters on election day, and asked them who they voted for and why. They heard from people who had lost their jobs and experienced other hardships, voting out of pain, not hate.

We were asked at the conference if in the work of Together For Humanity we talk about differences, or just the similarities. I explained that we certainly discuss both. To do otherwise would be dishonest and ultimately not helpful to building trust between communities.

Juggling similarities and differences is key to our work, and was also part of my preparation of the quotes for the conference. I was aware of the Islamic teaching that “...if anyone slew a person - unless it be for murder or for spreading mischief in the land - it would be as if he slew the whole people. And if anyone saved a life, it would be as if he saved the life of the whole people” (10). There is a Jewish quote that is very similar, but with one significant difference. It compares the saving of a Jewish life to saving the world (11). Fortunately, I was able to find authoritative sources for universal versions of the same teaching, that equated saving any life with saving humanity (12).

There was yet another hurdle for me with these two quotes. One of the Imams I consulted about these quotes pointed out to me that the full verse includes a critique of some Jews failing to fully embrace this teaching. The full verse in the Quran has an additional statement at the beginning and the end, it states: “We ordained for the children of Israel, that if anyone slew a person ...Our messengers came to them with clear signs, but many of them continued to commit excesses in the land”. The Imam pointed out that it was not a comment about all Jews but some.

Notwithstanding the challenges along the way, seeing the quotes side by side was heart-warming for participants in our session, as they could see evidence of common values in our two traditions. This commonality and the goodwill between me and conference participants does not cancel out the differences between faiths and nations, or the many challenges. Sometimes we will upset people in our own communities or people outside them. We cannot be 100% focused on both at the same time. On those occasions we will apologize like Mr Chown did, but we will persevere with doing the right thing by both. Indeed, we must. 

Notes:

1)       Khaldoun Hajaj, in a facebook post on 15.07.2019 challenged my comment about these human being “slaves”. He wrote “my contention concerns the use of the word Slaves. No one is a slave ... some of us are enslaved”.

2)       https://www.npr.org/templates/transcript/transcript.php?storyId=524510378

3)       Talmud Sanhedrin 105a. It is a play on words, with the name בלעם (Bilam or Baalam) linked to being בלא עם (Blo- Am, without a nation)

4)       The Maharal, cited in Valdman, C. Y. in his commentary  Yosif Chayim on Ein Yaakov Hamevuar, pub. Machon Torah Mitziyon, Manchester, p. 446

5)       The Imam was Farhan Khalil, the Principal was Samir Halbouni, also a board member of Together For Humanity Foundation, and the Catholic was Kate Xavier, Senior Education officer of Together For Humanity.

6)       The Quran 4:36.

7)       Talmud, Bava Metzia 71a.

8)       Exodus 22:20. 

9)       Numbers 22:2-24:25.

10)    The Quran 5:32.

11)    Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 37a.

12)    Jerusalem Talmud, Sanhedrin 4:1 (22a),  states: whoever destroys a single life is considered by Scripture to have destroyed the whole world, and whoever saves a single life is considered by Scripture to have saved the whole world. The context of this teaching is a warning to witnesses in capital cases to speak the truth. It is a reference to the murder of Abel by his brother Cain and how this murder destroyed not just one man but practically half of the future of mankind. This context supports the Jerusalem universal version.  There are several additional versions of this teaching that are universal, these include, Pirkei deRabbi Eliezer ch. 47, Eliyahu Rabbah 11, Yalkut Shimoni on Exodus 166, and manuscripts from Parma, Italy in the mid-13th century, and from Cesena, dating to about 1400. See http://talmud.faithweb.com/articles/schindler.html and https://mosaicmagazine.com/observation/history-ideas/2016/10/the-origins-of-the-precept-whoever-saves-a-life-saves-the-world/

Muslim Atheist Christian Jew and African American Living and playing Together For Humanity (Not in) Retreat

The setting was a cottage in the Blue Mountains, complete with a wood fireplace in the lounge room. The cast of characters included; a 21 year old female African American, a student of criminal justice; a 26 year old Australian, a Muslim man of Lebanese heritage; myself, a Jewish man more than twice their age; three women with young children including a Catholic teacher, of Croatian heritage; an atheist social worker of Hungarian heritage; and a Hijab wearing Muslim of Cocos Island and Anglo heritage; as well as another male teacher, of German and Peruvian heritage. This was the Interfaith, Intercultural Together for Humanity retreat.

Instead of talking about our work, we lived and played our message of building inclusive diverse community. Not only are there foods that the Muslim participants and I are forbidden to eat; for me, even the cooking utensils need to be Kosher. So I used a sandwich-maker to cook Kosher and Halal pumpkin and eggplant, lentil burgers and scrambled eggs. The three males cooked dinner one night, with the youngest, a newly married man, cooking a delicious pumpkin soup. As is so often the case, despite the men’s efforts to clean up during and after cooking, the women unfortunately ended up with the lion’s share of the cleaning up.    

Prayers were done quietly in another room, with people disappearing at various times. Otherwise, religion came up informally. We played a game together called ‘Apples to Apples -Jewish Children’s edition’ that I sometimes play with my kids on a Saturday afternoon. Each participant got 5 red cards that had a word on them that is part of the world of a Jewish child. The play involved selecting one of these cards to match with a green card that contained an adjective. I wondered if the unfamiliar cultural references would make the game fail or provide a glimpse into my world and spark cross-cultural conversation. Fortunately, it certainly turned out to be the latter.

In our game, one of the red cards referred to the festival of Shavuot. The card sparked a conversation about how my family celebrates Shavuot, with a dairy meal with blintzes with mushrooms and cheese, and lots of ice cream. Often, Shavuot afternoon is spent in front of a live wood fire, just as we did in our mountain cottage. Another card referred to queen Vashti, who refused to appear naked before her husband’s drunken friends to show off her beauty. This led to sharing perspectives on women standing up to unreasonable men. Perspectives on gender politics were exchanged, along with personal and family stories, late into the night. We learned a lot about each other’s’ families. Some of it was funny, some of it was sad. While I sensibly went to bed at 11, others talked till 1 am.

Names were the topic of another conversation. One man’s migrant German father was insistent on assimilating his family into Australian culture. Rosario became Sharon or Shazza. And a ‘fat lot of good’ it did for the high school aged son, who was emphatically told he was a ‘wog’, and not Australian. Worse still, despite his grandfather having been a partisan who fought Hitler, the bullying of the grandson included giving him the nickname Nazi! It was even printed on the back of his year 12 jersey.

We had a great bushwalk in the mountains together. But I also went back into the forest alone. My heart was filled with a feeling of connectedness, and my mind was mulling over a disturbing story from the weekly Torah reading, about a man who was put to death for collecting firewood on the Sabbath (1). Like the altruistic bunch in the cottage, according to the sages, this man was an idealist (2). The context of his collecting these sticks was that he was 'in the desert' (3). His people had failed to have faith in God’s Promised Land, so they were condemned to never leave the bleak desert and see the realization of their dreams (4). In that case, they reasoned, there was little point in continuing the practices that lead to a better world. Just throw in the towel and forget about the Sabbath. One man, our wood collector, wanted to be test case for the Sabbath, to show that the practices must continue and he was prepared to die to demonstrate that the Sabbath was still to be taken seriously. He is praised for his effort (5).

There are reasons to be pessimistic about the degree to which the human family is ever going to achieve the “Promised land”, of true acceptance and affirmation of all people, in all our diversity. It often feels more like a long term stay in the desert than an imminent arrival in the lush forests of the Blue Mountains. However, regardless of where we are right now, or what the short term prospects are for achieving our dreams, we can and indeed we must continue to live and play this vision. 

Notes

1)    Numbers 15:32-36.

2)    Midrash, cited in Tosafot, on Bava Basra 119b, Dibbur Hamaschil Afilu.

3)    Numbers 15:32.The fact that the text mentions their presence explicitly despite this being obvious is pointed out by the Chida in Torat Hachida, 66, p. 91.

4)    Numbers 13:1-14:35.

5)    This interpretation is based on the Midrash above and the Chida in Torat Hachida, 66, 71, 72 p. 91-93.

Dis/Connect Between Lands and “their” peoples - Bechukotai

Recently, I joined a group of Australian born Muslim high school boys in watching a moving film called Before 1770, produced by Shaykh Wesam Charkawi. The film shows deep connections between Muslims and the land of Australia. We learned that “for hundreds of years, Aboriginal Yolngu and Muslim Macassans interacted. They married, traded, exchanged, [and] learnt from one another... The Aboriginal Yolngu have, to this day, preserved words, which were taught during the stay of the Macassans, [including the words] Allah and Muhammad” (1).

This outstanding film helps address the alienation that some young people feel from the place where they live. One of the issues that Muslims tell me is important to them is the degree to which young Muslims in Australia feel or don’t feel a sense of belonging in this country. There is a narrative out there that equates being Australian to being white, being of Christian and Anglo heritage and adopting a set of secular, cultural norms relating to modesty and drinking for example. If a young person accepts that narrative then the choice to identify with Australia can also seem like a betrayal of his or her religious identity. This film appears to separate the choices young people need to make between: connecting with the place of Australia and its long history on the one hand; and identifying with contemporary Australian society on the other.    

Let us put aside the broader question of how people with diverse beliefs and cultures relate to each other in the present and continue with the idea of feeling connected to a place and its history. Are places significant or merely a meaningless platform on which the real drama consisting exclusively of people plays out?  

In my tradition the relationship between a people and a land comes up in the reading this week. The Jewish people had an obligation to allow the land to rest for one of every seven years. In this week’s reading the Torah describes the consequences for the Jews of their failure to meet this responsibility, among other sins. “I will scatter you among the nations...Then, the land will be appeased regarding its sabbaticals. During all the days that it remains desolate while you are in the land of your enemies, the Land will rest and thus appease its sabbaticals (2).

The imagery of this verse is of a land that is resentful toward “its people”. The land is appeased only when the debt to it/her has been paid (3). It fits with a contemporary perspective about an exhausted, polluted planet earth-mother whose patience with her wayward human children is running out and her wrath is soon to be unleashed. This idea resonates for me when I walk in nature near my home, in the shade of nature’s abundant trees and the combination of its quiet and birdsong. The earth deserves care and respect rather than being exploited carelessly.    

It was disappointing to me to read the most popular Torah commentator, Rashi’s, interpretation of the verse above as referring to appeasing God rather than the earth (4). While that might make sense from a literal perspective it removes the opportunity to engage our imagination with the image of an aggrieved living land. However, I was pleased to find a supra-commentary that insisted that Rashi actually did embrace the idea of the land being appeased (5). (5). I was delighted when I found further proof about Rashi’s view in his own commentary on another verse in Chronicles where he is explicit about the appeasement of the land itself (6). The view that the earth itself is appeased is also supported by other commentators (7).

More controversially the relationship between the holy land and the Jewish people is interpreted as being expressed in profound loyalty between the land and “its people”. The Torah states that as part of the process of the Jews being exiled, God “will make the Land desolate” and “your enemies will “desolate [as a verb] upon it” (8). This is interpreted to mean that no other nation that occupies this land will ever truly thrive on it (9). “They will not manage to build walls or towers on it… as the land will not receive any nation or tongue… the land will not welcome anyone until her chicks return to her” (10). (Of course, these types of teachings can make it harder for religious Jews to truly listen to Palestinian narratives of loss of a thriving life on the land. This important and painful discussion is beyond the scope of this blog post.)

Returning to the group of boys at the beginning of this blog post, I can appreciate various ways that connections form between people and places. We are embodied spirits and our bodies exist in places. Our wellbeing is enhanced when we feel connected to where we live and care for those places. Having spent a few more sessions with the boys since we watched the film I trust that they will develop the connections between themselves, their place and accurate understanding of and positive connections with their multicultural, multi-faith diverse fellow inhabitants of this blessed country.

Notes:

1.   https://www.before1770.com
2.  Leviticus 26:33 and 34
3.  Chizkuni on this verse
4.  Rashi on 26:34
5.  Mizrahi, on Rashi 26:34, he explains that Rashi’s intention in shifting toward appeasing God is that ultimately, once the land itself has been appeased, the land, now reconciled to her people, seeks to appease God’s anger about how the land was worked during the Sabbatical year
6. Rashi on 2 Chronicles, 36:20
7. Chizkuni and Abrabanel, on Leviticus 26:33, Metzudat David and Metzudat Tzion on 2 Chronicles, 36:21
8.  Leviticus 26:32
9.  Rashi on Leviticus 26:32 based on Torat Cohanim/Sifra Bechukotai 6:8, 
10. Bchaya, on Leviticus 26:32
    
    

Religious Texts divide us? & sky-high and deep conversations with Sheiks - Chayeh Sarah

Sitting on a plane to Perth with an Aboriginal elder on my right, and a Muslim Sheikh on my left, it was only natural that my thoughts turned to coexistence. One of the oft repeated comments about Muslim-Jewish relations (and the relationship between Muslims and others in general), is that although Muslims and Jews got along well in the past, this was only the case when the Muslims had higher status and the Jews were subservient, or “Dimhi”. This argument dismisses the golden age of Spain as being irrelevant to coexistence in the West today.

Good intercultural understanding practice requires finding out what Muslims think about these assertions. Ideally, by talking to an actual Muslim person directly, rather than by performing a Google search. My own community, in St Ives, was recently maligned based on some of my neighbours’ findings on the internet in the recent Eruv controversy (1).

Fortunately, I was sitting next to a learned Sheikh on this flight to Perth. He explained to me that the word “Dimhi” means “under protection”. He told me that: “one statement of the prophet Muhammad (in the Hadith) declared that a person who harms a Dimhi will not smell the fragrance of paradise” and that protection of religion/s was a core purpose of Sharia. The Sheikh acknowledged that he is not surprised by the alternative interpretation of “Dimhi” by people like ISIS, but such groups don't just have a problem in their attitude to non-Muslims but with anyone, including Muslims, who thinks differently to them. They regard everyone unlike them as not being ‘rightly guided’.  

Another useful approach is to explore this notion of acceptance as being conditional on subservience in my own Faith. Abraham's son Ishmael is said to have become a good man later in life. We know this because in the report about Abraham's burial, Ishmael is mentioned after Isaac (2). This sequence is taken as proof that Ishmael, father of the Arabs, honoured Isaac by allowing him to go first (3). Hmm. Something about people in glass houses comes to mind.

My first inclination was to look for alternative interpretations. I found one that highlights the fact that the Torah mentioned the obvious fact that Isaac and Ishmael were Abraham's sons, in this context, in order to hint that they were both equal in their honoring him [Abraham] (4). I was happy to find this interpretation that emphasises equality rather than superiority.

This second interpretation does not cancel out the first. I slept on this matter and my discussion with the Sheikh. It occurred to me, lying in bed after midnight, that perhaps it didn't make sense to impose secular literary political analysis on a religious text. The text is working from the assumption that it is a matter of absolute fact that Isaac was profoundly righteous. Ishmael honoring him is evidence of him humbly disregarding his status as an older brother, which serves as a lesson in humility for us. In fact it is written that Ishmael’s humble gesture earned Ishmael the merit to enjoy a place in heaven (5).

It was something the Sheikh said on the plane the previous day that inspired me to step back and question my critical approach. We were discussing portrayals of the Jews in Islamic stories. I asked if he could tell me the ratio between positive and negative portrayals. He told me that this kind of analysis had not been done. Instead he shared one story with me about a very pious Jew who met an outcast Jew. The outcast noticed that the pious man was enjoying the shade cast by a cloud hovering just above him. The outcast sat down near the pious man but was arrogantly sent away. God then forgave the outcast and canceled the pious Jew’s merit so both were at square one (6). On reflection this Muslim story is primarily a lesson for Muslims about humility rather than a commentary on Jews. It was more useful to understand what the story means to those who are guided by it than to impose an external lens to view it through.

On my return to Sydney, I had a chat with another Sheikh to plan an activity to foster interfaith understanding. Our conversations followed media articles sparked by references to another Muslim story also involving Jews, which were made during a lecture presented by this Sheikh. In this story, a murdered wealthy man was temporarily miraculously brought back to life by Moses  to identify his killer: a greedy nephew. Jewish villagers who were relieved of suspicion by this miracle still failed to believe in Moses despite his performance of this amazing miracle. The punishment meted out to the Jewish villagers 3000 years ago for their lack of belief was that God hardened their hearts (7). None of the context of the 3000 year old story was clear to those who viewed a YouTube video of the lecture. To them the Sheik appeared to be saying that “the Jewish [people- presumably in any time and place] have hard hearts] with no mercy, only envy and hatred”. There is no way to know for sure if even some of the members of the original audience also failed to understand the strictly contextual nature of the remarks. Sacred text is read by imperfect humans with various opinions and possibly, prejudices.

In conclusion. Curiosity and dialogue is crucial. There is value in resisting the temptation to rush to judgement. On the contrary, we are taught to be patient in judgement (8). Some traditional teachings might not appear compatible with modern principles of equality and embracing diversity. Let us continue to grapple with these.

1. See my blog post….
2. Genesis 25:9
3. Talmud Bava Basra 16a
4. Yalkut Ner Haschalim, manuscript, cited in Torah Shlaima, vol 2, p.998, note 34
5. Midrash Hagadol, cited in Torah Shlaima, vol 2, p.998, note 34
6. Imam Ghazali, in revival of the religious sciences
7. This kind of punishment is also found in the Torah, in Exodus, in the case of Pharaoh whose heart was hardened after he chose the path of defiance instead of letting the Hebrews go free.
8. Ethics of the Fathers

Who will Rest and who shall wander? Rosh Hashanah

Image was originally posted to Flickr
by james_gordon_losangeles at
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Image licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic

At a time that terrible suffering afflicts millions in the Middle East and continues to traumatize those who have escaped, Jews prepare for our New Year and day of judgement: Rosh Hashanah.  In the synagogue the solemn words will ring out: “Who will live and who will die? Who will die in their time and who before their time? Who by fire? Who by the sword? Who by hunger? Who by thirst? Who will find rest and who shall wander?  Who shall be at peace and who shall be pursued? …who shall be tormented?” This prayer talks about these decisions as being made by God alone. Yet, you and I are also making choices as citizens that might have some influence on these terrible questions.

This week’s decision by the Australian Government to resettle 12,000 refugees fleeing the conflict in Syria and Iraq, with a focus “on those most in need – the women, children and families of persecuted minorities”, 1 followed pleas by citizens as well as politicians. Last year I heard a representative of the Assyrian community describe the killing and devastation inflicted on his community by Daesh/IS. I connected with their pain and deeply wished this evil would stop! Now, thankfully, at least Assyrians will likely get some relief and be shown some compassion. 

On the other hand, one Australian Muslim who I respect and trust had a different perspective on the government’s announcement. “Muslims will forever remember a time that Australia turned its back on them, or planned too, when they are at their most vulnerable.  This is what radicalises people. Do you see why I say that this government doesn't really care about true de-radicalisation? This is the beginning of the end. Remember this moment! It's when we sacrificed our security, humanity and self-worth for political manoeuvring”. This perspective must be taken into account.

The decisions about who should be resettled and who will continue to suffer and “find nowhere to rest their feet” should be, and should be seen to be, based on need rather than ethnicity or religion. The right to save this one and leave another to suffer could only be claimed by God. Human justice must be procedural and impartial. The NSW Jewish community 2013 policy statement asserts that government should “not adopt any policy that arbitrarily limits or excludes from refugee protection any category of people with a genuine and well-founded fear of persecution in their homeland”. 2

The argument that a non-sectarian policy is necessary for social cohesion is consistent with an article written this week by former UK Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. It should be noted that Sacks is not on some kind of left-wing politically correct bandwagon. In fact in 2007, he wrote that “Multiculturalism has led not to integration but to segregation…societies more abrasive, fractured and intolerant…”.  3 This week he wrote that it “is hard is to love the stranger, one whose colour, culture or creed is different from yours. That is why the command, “Love the stranger because you were once strangers”, resonates so often throughout the Bible. It is summoning us now. A bold act of collective generosity will show that the world, particularly Europe, (or the west) has learned the lesson of its own dark past and is willing to take a global lead in building a more hopeful future. Wars that cannot be won by weapons can sometimes be won by the sheer power of acts of humanitarian generosity to inspire the young to choose the way of peace instead of holy war”. 4 As my respected Muslim correspondent quoted above points out, the opposite is also true.


We must be hard on the problems and refuse to accept the avoidable suffering of our fellow humans, regardless of ethnicity or religion.  On Rosh Hashanah, I will pray that ‘God reign over the world in a way that will be known to all’. To me, this means that principles of justice and mercy prevail rather than the interests of the rich and powerful or the short term political interests of politicians. At the same time, let us treat each other with understanding and grace. A beautiful Rosh Hashanah prayer asserts that humans are “like a fading flower, like a broken shard of earthenware, and a dream that flies away”. This is a challenging time for those who are suffering and for the preservation of the fragile fabric of our still largely cohesive society. I pray for wise, responsible and compassionate choices by all concerned. 

Notes:
1.    https://www.pm.gov.au/media/2015-09-09/syrian-and-iraqi-humanitarian-crisis
2.    http://www.nswjbd.org/Our-Policies-/default.aspx, policy last updated (according to the website at 11 am on  10.09.2015) on 17.9.2013
3.    Sacks, J, (2007), the Home We Build Together, p.3, Continuum, London.
4.    http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/sep/06/refugee-crisis-jonathan-sacks-humanitarian-generosity accessed 10.09.15

Cross-cultural generosity, not mean-spiritedness

Cooking Kosher dinner,
vegetables and veggie
burgers on a sandwich maker
at the Aly home.

Last week I posted an impassioned grave side sermon by Mohammad Hoblos, a Lebanese Muslim preacher (i) on Facebook Hoblos told the mourners at the funeral of Hedi Ayoub: "there are no gangsters in paradise", "...twenty-two years old, built like a tank... (a) one dollar (bullet) brought him to the ground" and quoted a line from a rap song: "Why are we so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me?". He spoke against glorifying violence and materialism and stated that a Muslim who kills another Muslim will never get to heaven.  One Facebook comment, however, got caught up on the inward focus of the talk - “Why doesn’t he talk about the real issues, such as ISIS and violence against non-Muslims?”! 

It is wrong to look at Muslims in general through the lens of ISIS and terrorism. Hoblos was certainly talking about issues that are very real to people he actually knows.   A generous approach would be to look at the merit of what he was saying, at an open grave no less, rather than seeking faults in what he didn’t say.  In fact, many of my Facebook friends of Jewish and other backgrounds did make positive

and appreciative comments afterwards about Hoblos’ sermon, e.g. “that was a great post yesterday of the speech at funeral...”.

Last week I myself experienced the cross-cultural generosity of a Muslim family.  Zohra and Abbas Aly had invited me for dinner at their home, which is difficult for me because of the way I practice Kosher. I can’t eat anything cooked in pots used for non-Kosher, for example. They generously agreed to allow me to cook my meal on a sandwich maker in their own kitchen!

The theme of generosity can also be found, if one looks for it, in the Torah reading this past week. God commanded the Jews to take revenge against Midyan (ii). While a critical approach would, reasonably, focus on the revenge, a more generous approach will probe further.

The crime that Midyan was to be punished for, according to our oral tradition, was that the Midyanites and Moabites used sex as a weapon of war. Not by raping the enemies’ women, as still happens today, but as a way to spiritually destroy the Jews by having their own daughters seduce Jewish men and then pressure them to worship the gods of their enemies. 

In this context, spiritual strength or weakness was everything. The Moabites and Midyanites had sought to destroy the Jews through the curses of the sorcerer Balaam.  Balaam had let them down by blessing the Jews instead of cursing them, yet he also provided a clue to their vulnerability (iii).  He asserted that God “did not look at evil in Jacob (iv)”. Balaam went on to advise his clients that if the Jews could be led to sin this will result in their destruction (v). This plan was implemented although the Torah places responsibility (vi), at least initially, on the Jewish men who we are told “began to commit harlotry with the daughters of the Moabites. They (the Moabite daughters) invited the people to the sacrifices of their gods, and the people ate and prostrated themselves to their gods (vii)”.

Despite the Moabites participation in this bizarre sin, they are not included in Gods planned vengeance, which is restricted to Midyan. This is for two reasons involving generous thinking. One is the fact that the Moabites legitimately feared attack by the Jews (viii).  A second is that although, technically speaking the Jews had done nothing against the Moabites, they had possession of land that had been traditionally Moabite. The Jews had conquered that land in a war with the Emorites who had themselves taken the land from the Moabites. This legitimate grievance is seen as a significant mitigating factor (ix). 

My thoughts and prayers are with the Hedi Ayoub, his family, friends and community. Just as, when I was grieving over the violent loss of my brothers’ friend, the late Gabi Holzberg, in the Mumbai terrorist attack in 2008, many of my Muslim friends sent me messages of condolence. Let us respond to each other, in good times and bad, with cross-cultural compassion and generosity.

Notes:
i.    https://www.facebook.com/theaustralianmuslim?ref=ts&fref=ts, also available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fGEwzptQew in full, or edited version at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ROpW9ygp5Y
ii.    Numbers 25:18
iii.    Chizkuni
iv.    Numbers 23:21
v.    Talmud Sanhedrin 105, also see allusion to Balaam in Number 31:16
vi.    Lebovitz, N, New Studies in Bamidbar
vii.    Numbers 25:1-2
viii.    Ralbag
ix.    Chizkuni

Political Correctness: Boat People, Balaam and Muslims

The objection to political correctness is often used to justify insensitive, divisive and destructive speech. A man approached me this week at the Synagogue to say he supports the relentless, harsh rhetoric in the media and by some of our politicians about Muslims and terrorism because he doesn’t believe in political correctness. I disagree. While political correctness should not be allowed to stifle purposeful debate or criticism of specific people who do wrong, speech that generalises or disproportionately emphasises the negative, is unjust and irresponsible.

Elizabeth Ban, a giant spirit who passed away last week, facilitated dialogue between Jews and Muslims. This helped people in both communities develop a more realistic as well as positive understanding of each other.

Elizabeth had one last task she wanted to accomplish before she died. She sought to change the conversation about asylum seekers in the Sydney Jewish community. She made a good start by initiating an event at which 60 members of the community connected with asylum seekers (1). The following joke might help continue her mission: Dark- skinned young comedian, Suren Jayemanne, gets asked if he is a “boat person”? No, he replies, I am a car person actually. I’m really into cars, I hate sailing. It reminds me of the 7 months it took me to get to Australia… A pause, a little shock, and then everyone laughed: the “othering” term, ‘boat person’, is made to sound ridiculous.

The danger of negative speech plays out in our Torah reading (2). A man named Balaam faced a dramatic and successful attempt, involving a talking ass (3), an angel and God himself, to silence him. 

The colourful story begins with the one-eyed (4) sorcerer, Balaam, being asked to curse the Jews. While Balaam is on his way to do this, an angel is sent to stop him, he is reprimanded by his donkey, and finally God, Himself, puts words in his mouth that force him to bless and praise the Jews instead of cursing them.

The story is puzzling. Why would it have mattered if Balaam cursed the Jews?! Surely, only God decides if curses can have any impact (5).

There are four ways to think about this, all useful.

a) The impact of the curses would have caused distress to the target of the curses. “People then and now are impressed by sorcerers. The Israelites in those times, particularly the women and children (6), would have been greatly affected by the maledictions of such a renowned sorcerer (7)”. The impact on the Muslim community, particularly the young people, of being continually demonised, is substantial, unjust and unhelpful.  

b) The impact of the curses, had they been allowed to be spoken, would have been to embolden the enemies of the Jews (8). Again, this has relevance. The relentless, harsh rhetoric by politicians and the media encourages citizens who harbour prejudice, to express it both verbally and physically. In the case of asylum seekers, it reinforces prejudice and antipathy to the “boat people”.

c) Words have a spiritual, self-fulfilling impact. Negative speech can elicit negative behaviour from the targeted person, while praise strengthens the positive elements and potential in the person being spoken about (9).

d) At the literal level, our tradition clearly sees the prevention of the curses as being a protective and loving act by God for the Jewish people. “But the Lord, your God, did not want to listen to Balaam. So the Lord, your God, transformed the curse into a blessing for you, because the Lord, your God, loves you” (10).

Words matter. There are times when circumstances legitimately call for criticism of specific or even systemic problems and the people or groups responsible for these problems. Serious debate between philosophies, world views and even faiths can serve to tease out the truth, and this requires disregarding political correctness. However, often, negative speech serves no legitimate purpose while being quite destructive. If one has nothing nice to say, it might be time to “open both eyes” to see the full picture of both the admirable qualities alongside the faults, rather than seeking to verbally destroy like a “one- eyed” Balaam.


Notes

1)    http://torahforsociallyawarehasid.blogspot.com.au/2015/04/closing-empathy-gap-with-unlike.html
2)    Numbers 22-25
3)    Ralbag suggests that the whole encounter between Balaam and his donkey was a dream
4)    Talmud Sanhedrin 105a, states that Balaam was blind in one eye
5)    Ralbag
6)    The sexist implication in this explanation needs to be seen in the context of the time, centuries ago, when this was written.
7)    Ibn Kaspi, Joseph, Tirat Kesef, cited in Lebovitz, N, Studies in Bamidbar
8)    Abarbanel
9)    The Lubavitcher Rebbe
10)    Deuteronomy 23:6

Submission Season: Chukat & Korach

On Monday morning, Sheikh Ahmed, my team and I discussed submission and assertiveness with Western Sydney, Lebanese Muslim, teenage boys who were fasting as part of Ramadan. Just before this month of fasting began, I joined a priest on a panel with Soner Coruhlu, another sheikh, who explained the spiritual side of fasting. He put fasting in the context of the inner struggle between the ego and emotions, on the one hand, and submission to God and following higher callings on the other.

In Western culture, we seem to value asserting oneself rather than submission. In Australian culture, we celebrate egalitarianism and irreverence. At the same time, these boys, like everyone else, are expected to submit to the rule of law and the obligations of citizenship.  We talked about the Magna Carta - how even governments must submit to the authority of the courts, and rule in a way that respects the rights of the people.

On Monday night, a Muslim man, a self-confessed “idiot at times (1)”, asserted on national television that the government “just justified to many Australian Muslims in the community tonight to leave and go to Syria and join ISIL (2)”. This has predictably caused outrage in the Australian media, and inflamed tensions. Living with people with diverse needs and standards, it is necessary to consider carefully how and when we either assert ourselves or submit to the will of others. 

I have been thinking about the limits of a self-assertive approach. In the course of my work, I found myself confronted by a person who defied my guidance.  He told a personal story, with a political reference, to a group of students in a context in which this was inappropriate.  When I gently pointed out to him what I thought was his oversight, he asserted his own view and told me that the political aspect of his story was intentional.  The fact that I am a leader in the field of cross-cultural bridge-building, counted for nothing. Unfortunately, he saw no need to accept any guidance.  In contrast to this, I shared an anecdote with the boys about how I submitted to the guidance of an Aboriginal elder, which, although hard at the time, I am very happy about after the fact.

In the current Torah readings, there is a strong message about submission. Last week, we read an extreme story promoting the virtue of “followership”: a man, named Korach, who refused to submit to the authority of Moses, was swallowed up by the earth as punishment (3). 

This week, we read about a ritual involving the slaughter and burning of a red cow, as a means of purification, after contact with death (4).  Death can be interpreted as symbolic - being completely disconnected from God (5). The ritual of the red cow is seen as a commandment without any rational explanation that we are forbidden “to think about”, or question (6).

This red cow had to be one that had never borne a yoke (7). The yoke is a potent symbol representing submission to God’s demands, just as an ox would accept the burden placed on its shoulders and comply with the demand to pull a plough. This symbolism can be interpreted in two opposite ways. Firstly, it can be interpreted that the Jews had thrown off the yoke of the kingdom of heaven, so they needed atonement through an animal that was likewise without a yoke (8).  Alternatively, it could be interpreted as atonement by the Jews for their inappropriate submission to the golden calf (9) - they accepted its yoke, and would now be redeemed by a yoke-less and, perhaps, symbolically assertive cow.

One of the interesting questions raised by one of the boys during the discussion, was whether it should still be considered as submission if one wants to submit. The sheikh and I both thought the answer is yes.

In the process of the preparation of the red cow, there is a high level of intentionality. The burning must be done “before his eyes (10)”: the priest must not be involved in any other task (11), but continue to look until the animal is reduced to ashes (12). One could not perform the ritual with two cows simultaneously as this would divide the attention of the priest (13). If a high priest performed this ritual, he would have to remove his regular, elaborate garments, including the breast plate with the diamonds inscribed with the names of the tribes, and perform the ritual wearing simple, white garments.  His thoughts must be focused on this ritual (14). Submission is not about the self being absent, nor is it about being weak and just caving in or shutting down. Instead, we are called to submit mindfully.  This is what happens in loving relationships between parents and children, and husbands and wives. The Torah points to broader applications of this gracious way of being. 

There will be times when assertiveness is the correct stance. There are other times that call for some give and grace. A season for submission is an opportunity to highlight this.

1)    http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jun/23/zaky-mallah-i-stand-by-what-i-said-on-qa-the-public-needs-to-hear-it
2)    http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/tv-and-radio/zaky-mallahs-qa-comments-a-wakeup-call-for-radicalisation-debate-20150623-ghv29p.html#ixzz3dvhW9SxY
3)    Numbers 16
4)    Numbers 19:1-14
5)      Schneerson, Rabbi MM, Likutei Sichos, Vol 4, p.1058
6)      Rashi
7)      Numbers 19:2
8)      Bamidbar Zuta, from a manuscript, cited in Kasher, R. Menachem, Torah Shlaima, vol. 11, p. 25
9)      Midrash Agadah cited in Kasher, R. Menachem, Torah Shlaima, vol. 11, p. 23
10)      Numbers 19:5
11)      Ralbag, p.97 Mosad Rav Kook edition
12)      Sifrei Zuta,
13)      Ralbag, based on Tosefta
14)      Ralbag

Thou Shalt Not Hate…! Emotions on command? Kedoshim

Photo by Anita Sarkeesian, https://www.flickr.com/photos/puenteaz/4839483755/
reprinted under Creative Commons License Attribution-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/

I feel unmotivated, resentment, anger and even despair sometimes.  ‘I shouldn’t feel like this’ is one thought that appears in my mind. I should be positive and forgiving (toward everyone other than me) is one approach.  But surely that is unreasonable. I feel how I feel and I can’t change it. 

The Torah’s prohibition against hate (1) suggests otherwise.  Clearly, ‘to hate is a choice!’ is implied.

Perhaps, it is not. One scholar reinterpreted the commandment against hate to mean something more concrete, “do not speak smoothly with your mouth” while you hate them in your hearts (2). This fits a pattern of mundane applications of emotional commandments. Love your fellow like yourself is applied as an instruction about not marrying without first seeing your prospective spouse because of the risk that eventually the husband might see something ugly and this would cause her to be despised  (3). Another application is not to do to your fellow what you dislike (4). I think there is great wisdom in this approach because it recognises that in a sense our emotions are involuntary responses to the world around us and that sometimes we cannot be instructed what to feel. Similarly, many would argue that people cannot be told what they are allowed to think. 

On the other hand, the Torah suggests, that our feelings are significantly influenced by our thoughts (5).  We are therefore legitimately called to guide our thoughts to be loving rather than hateful. 

Here is an example. I flew on a fairly empty flight from Dallas to Sydney recently. There was a devout Arabic Muslim couple with a baby seated in the row of four seats in front of me.  They sat on either end of the row. I heard a baby crying for a while and I noticed that the husband/father remained sitting comfortably in his seat, presumably leaving his wife to deal with the baby by herself. I had heard from women in the Arabic Muslim community about some men who are sexist. Immediately a judgmental thought popped into my mind. What is wrong with this man? Why is he so selfish and chauvinistic? Then I noticed the thoughts in my mind and asked myself if I was stereotyping? “I don’t know this man!”. I then checked and found that his baby was actually sleeping soundly on the seats between them and the crying was coming from someone else’s baby. 

A great rationalist commentator on the Torah, Ibn Ezra, states that there are three types of commandments including one that governs what people think in their minds (6). He argues that through our thinking, we can control the impulse to covet another man’s wife. He argues that just as a villager would not covet a princess regardless of how beautiful she is because he knows this is not realistic. Surely then what God has forbidden to one person because it is the possession of another should be even less likely to arouse envy. A great theory, but if this was the case pedophilia would never involve religious people, tragically it does.  

Both approaches reflect part of the truth. It is true that we are commanded to love and think good thoughts and we can some of the time. It is equally true that this is impractical at least some of the time. Self-compassion is in order, accepting that some circumstances will reasonably elicit emotions like anger, or fear and this is ok. Yet we aspire to comply with the commands not to hate but to love instead, by being aware of our thoughts (7) and choosing to think other thoughts, sometimes.

1)    Leviticus 19:17, I acknowledge that this law is specifically when the potential hatred is directed against “your brother, which is disappointing for me because I would love to see a broader directive against all hate
2)    Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel
3)    Talmud, Kidushin 41a
4)    Lekach Tov, cited in Torah Shlaima on Leviticus 1918, p.69
5)    Maimonides, Yad Hachazah, Laws of Teshuva 10:6, Tanya
6)    Ibn Ezra on Exodus 20:2, also cited in Lebovitz, N. New Studies in Vayikra, p. 344
7)    My coleauge Donna Jacobs Sife has taught be that to counter prejudice in ourselves requires vigilance to our thoughts. Thank you Donna for this valuable insight.

Blasphemy discussion on ABC TV Compass

This week, I joined Sheik Wesam Charkawi, the Venerable Thubten Chokyigoing and David Marr on a panel discussing Blasphemy which goes to air on ABC TV’s, The Moral Compass, on Sunday night 22 March 6:30pm. The question behind the discussion is about the right price for interfaith harmony. Do we need to trade off freedom of expression to get along? Many people think that that price is too high. They argue that free speech is sacrosanct and Muslims and others just have to cope with insults. Many Muslims and others don’t agree that ridicule of religion should be allowed. I think a reasonable compromise would legally allow ridicule in the interest of free exploration of truth but would also develop ethical conventions of tact and cost benefit analysis that weigh up the expected benefit of mockery against the hurt caused.  The following are some of my thoughts on Blasphemy in this context.

A question at the core of a modern discussion of blasphemy was suggested by a member of the audience in advance of the program: “Is it blasphemy if the person is not a believer?” Over 800 years ago Maimonides stated that one who hears someone curse God must tear their clothing in mourning just like one would if a parent died. Yet this law only applies if the person blaspheming is Jewish, but if the blasphemer is an idol worshipper one is not required to perform this display of grief (1). This ruling is also confirmed in the code of Jewish law, the Shulchan Aruch (2), and extends this to also apply to a lapsed Jew (3). One commentator takes a practical view of this, “if we were to tear our clothes for (the blasphemy uttered by) idol worshipers, all the clothing will be full of tears (4)”.

I place great value on the freedom to believe differently and to express my beliefs. In the middle ages Jewish scholars would be invited to the royal court for staged debates with Christian leaders. Debating religion in the presence of a Christian monarch was dangerous because the Jew could easily be accused of blasphemy and put to death. The freedom for people to express their beliefs is imperative and must be permitted. While speaking against the God one believes in is forbidden in Judaism, this is not the case for the beliefs of others. A theme I explored in my blog post on Mockery (5). 

The British writer and comedian, Stephen Fry, has recently shared the angry attack he would unleash on God if he ever met Him on account of all the suffering he created in the world. The Archbishop of Canterbury has rightly defended his right to express these views. The substance, rather than the style, of Fry’s comments about questioning God would be embraced by some religious Jews. A dramatic example of this was at the huge outdoor funeral of a Rabbi and his wife who were murdered by terrorists in Mumbai in 2008. Kfar Chabad’s Rabbi Ashkenazi cried out bitterly in the voice of their orphaned son Moshe, Lamah! Why? Why? The words echoed off the hills. After Rabbi Ashkenazi, another Rabbi asserted that we had no right to ask why. Yet, Moses himself argues with God, asking why did you do evil to this people (6)? 

Alongside our considerations of the need to protect free speech, we must consider the impact on people arising out of unrestrained speech, and particularly which people are likely to be most significantly impacted (7) by our decisions to either self-censor or throw insults. I had a discussion with a group of Muslim young men in September 2012 after the media widely reported on a group of Muslim who rampaged through the city of Sydney demonstrating against a film mocking the prophet Mohammed. The reports included an image of a child holding up a sign that said behead those who insult the prophet. There was an intense backlash against Muslims. I thought the boys would feel bad about being misrepresented, or stereotyped. I was surprised by the deep personal hurt they felt from the film, ‘why do people mock our religion and prophet’ they asked. It was an intense sadness, rather than anger. We can’t avoid offending some people some of the time, but if we are considering hurting people, the benefits must outweigh the harm. Otherwise we would do well to tactfully refrain from the mockery.  I think this is an appropriate price to pay for preserving interfaith harmony. Essentially it is what most of us are doing already.

Notes:
1) Maimonides, Yad Hachazaka, laws of Idol Worship, chapter 2:10
2)  Karo, R. Yosef, Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh Deah, 340:37
3) Rabbi Moshe Iserrlis- Rama, comment on Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh Deah, 340:37
4) Turei Zahav, TAZ,  Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh Deah, 340:22
5) http://torahforsociallyawarehasid.blogspot.com.au/2015/01/mockery.html
6) Exodus 5:23
7) Gross-Schaefer, Arthur, A Suggested Strategy for Ethical Decision Making, Reform Judaism Magazine, November 1997

Oslo Synagogue Muslim Peace Ring - Gestures and Garments - Tetzaveh

The shame of some Muslims’ hate, it has been disapprovingly claimed, ‘was being covered up this week by inspiring media reports of a circle of Muslims protecting a synagogue in Oslo’ (1). This heart-warming and graceful gesture followed the murder of a Jewish volunteer guard in Copenhagen by a Muslim extremist. An eye witness account by a Rabbi who participated in this event described his moving experience of the circle of peace. It was “initiated by Muslim teenagers to convey the message to terrorists that if they want to harm the Jewish community in Oslo, they would have to go through them first (2)”. However, initial glowing reports were followed by articles and comments that questioned the number of Muslims and the value of the gesture.

The critics are wrong. Three different first person accounts confirm that Muslims turned out in very large numbers for this event (3). The critics also fail to account for the power of ‘gracious spectacles’ to create reality, or what might be termed the spiritual qualities of mere garments.

The backlash against the Oslo ring of Muslims who stood around a Synagogue is ironic. Late last year
I joined Christians and a small group of Jews from the inner-West Chavura in a gesture of solidarity with Muslims on the steps of Lakemba Mosque. One critical Jewish leader asked when Muslims would come to a Synagogue to reciprocate the gesture. Now that it has happened, it is not considered good enough. The fact that one of the organisers, Ali Chishti, had expressed anti-Jewish sentiments some years earlier, in 2008, was trotted out.  However, at the peace ring event, Chishti apologised for his hateful words against Jews demonstrating the potential for haters to change.

These gestures are more than a commitment to coexistence - they also contribute to the construction of a reality of togetherness. This reinforced reality counters the extremist narrative of hate and the broader “us & them” perspective. It is not good enough to be peace loving in our hearts, although that is ultimately what matters. Yet, there is power in the spectacles of peace in the long hard battle for hearts and minds to embrace diversity and reject hate.

External appearances matter. Adam and Eve’s dignity was restored after they ate forbidden fruit, having been provided with clothing by God himself (4). The text speaks of clothing made of hide (Or,- עורin Hebrew), perhaps that of the serpent (5), however, the Midrash renders it as clothing of light (אור Also pronounced Or, but spelled with the letter Alef instead of an Ayin) (6). The word “naked”, carries connotations of shame and is used figuratively to refer to the feeling of being emotionally exposed.

In the Torah reading this week we have specific divine instructions relating to garments of “honour and glory” (7) to be worn by the priests. These garments are to be made in order to sanctify Aaron and to turn him into a priest (8). The garments themselves brought atonement for sins, the hat for arrogance, etc. (9). Our sages go so far as to say that “for all the time that their garments are upon them, their priesthood is upon them and their holiness endures in them, (but if) their garments are not on them, their priesthood is not upon them (either) (10).  Appearances can create reality!

The importance of “clothes” in its various forms is contested. One scholar suggests that “in truth” the clothes of the priests merely point to the “inner garments that the priests of God need to dress their souls with, that is the ideas, emotions and good dispositions which are the garments of the soul” (11). Perhaps the interplay between the external garment or gesture and the inner reality it relates to reinforce each other (12). A gesture is meaningless if there is nothing in the heart for it to express, a fancy tie only helps express the gravitas of a person of some accomplishment; however positive sentiments and integrity are reinforced by an elegant expression. This has been accomplished in Oslo and has been rightly celebrated as one significant step on the long journey to peace. 


Footnotes:

1) http://www.breitbart.com/national-security/2015/02/22/media-hoax-20-muslims-holding-hands-become-1000-strong-ring-of-peace-at-oslo-synagogue/ is one example of the negative commentary, whose assumptions about attendance and interpretation of the event vary greatly with three eye witness accounts I have reach such as the one in footnote 2.
(2) Here is an abbreviated first person account by Rabbi Michael Melichior who participated in this event, shared by him on Facebook 23.02.2015, https://www.facebook.com/rabbi.melchior/posts/1019753274719893 Circle of Peace:  As Shabbat ended yesterday evening, all us attending synagogue in Oslo that day had a very moving experience. A group of eight Muslim teenagers decided to ignore their fears, to show contempt for prejudice, to put aside all the pressures and previous notions they may have held and to take action following the terror attack in Copenhagen.

The young Muslims encircled the synagogue, in which we were praying with a human chain in order to convey the message to terrorists that if they want to harm the Jewish community in Oslo, they would have to go through them first. These young people created a Facebook group entitled, "Circle of Peace" in which they invited Muslims to join the initiative. Contrary to the expectations of all the skeptics and people "in the know", their Facebook call was shared by hundreds of Muslims, and as I left the house and was walking to evening prayers at the synagogue, some 1,400 Muslims, mostly young people, had already collected along the narrow street….

… I explained to those gathered that we want to spread the scent of Shabbat, the day of rest and peace, into the remainder of the week and to also spread the special scent of this historic moment in order to establish a new reality together.

One after another, in the freezing cold, the youngsters from the organizing group stood up and called on their brethren to take back ownership of Islam. That out of faithfulness to Islam, they are saying NO to anti-Semitism, as well as NO to Islamophobia and YES to building a shared society. Such a simple, accurate and true message. Each and every one spoke in the name of Allah the Merciful and Compassionate and it was clear they really meant it.

I had the honor of addressing the participants and of providing the closing remarks...

“Exactly one week earlier, Oslo's sister community in Copenhagen was gathered to celebrate the Bat Mitzvah of the young girl, Hannah Bentov. The murderous perpetrator, who intended to create a bloodbath, managed to murder only the guard at the gate, Dan Uzan. After the funeral, I visited the parents of Dan and told them about the planned initiative of the young Muslims in Norway. With tears streaming down his face, Mordechai, Dan's father stood, embraced me in a tight hug and told me that this was the first time he had managed to find meaning in the brutal death of his son. Perhaps because of young Muslims in Norway, Dan's death would not be in vain. Maybe we'll be able to isolate the evil and we can join hands to build a better world. I promised to pass Mordechai's message to the young Muslims and so I did.

…Their circle is a circle of peace, brotherhood, love and solidarity, formed to protect a house of prayer, a Jewish kindergarten and a Jewish nursing home. Their circle is actually breaking a different circle, which is a cycle of fear and hatred that leads to bloodshed and murder.

I concluded, to the sound of their applause, that as a believer, I share their belief in Allahu Akbar - that G-d, in His Greatness alone, is present in every space throughout the world. And that in particular, He is present in the space between their moving circle and us Jews. For, where there is humanity, Allah wants to be more than anywhere else in the world.

(3) Part of the controversy was fuelled by photos in the media of a small number of Muslims standing holding hands.  This was used as proof that only a small number of Muslims actually attended. The real story is as follows:
a) The Synagogue is part of city block. It was impractical to circle the synagogue which is why a few people stood in front of it to symbolise the ring of peace. https://martingrunerlarsen.wordpress.com/2015/02/23/emailing-breitbart/ 
b) As witness Jude Rose stated “At the behest of the Synagogue's security people, the organisers of the event agreed that they would let about 20 mainly young Muslims inside the Synagogue's security perimeter. Those 20 symbolised the other 1300 attendants who filled the street. Look at the Rabbi's picture, taken from the Synagogue's forecourt..” https://www.facebook.com/rabbi.melchior/posts/1019753274719893
c) See previous footnote
(4) Genesis 3:21,
(5) Pirkey DRabbi Eliezer 20, cited in Torah Shlaima Bereshis Chapter 3, p.286, note 183
(6)  Beresheer Rabba 20, highlighted by Benno Jacobs, cited in Leibovitz, N., New Studies in the weekly Sidra, Shemot, Exodus, p. 529
(7)  Exodus 28:2
(8)  Exodus 28:3, see Rashi, “to sanctify him, to bring him into the priesthood through the garments that he should become a Cohen/Priest”
(9)  Chizkuni, the trousers bring atonement for sexual sins, the tunic with its noisy bells for evil speech or gossip, the plate on the forehead atones for brazenness etc. 
(10)  Midrash Hagadol, cited in Torah Shlaima Exdodus, Tetzave, p.157, note 24

(11)  Malbim Exodus on 28:2, Malbim differentiates between the physical clothing made by the craftsmen and the inner garments that Moses himself is commanded to make for Aaron his brother in this verse
(12)  The Lubavticher Rebbe Likutei Sichos vol. 36, p. 159, comments on the symbolism of the very long belt that the Kohanim would wear. He sees its purpose as the Kohen following the principle of “prepare yourself toward your God, oh Israel” (Amos 4:12), as a finishing touch to the garments. He links this to our own service of God and the need to prepare ourselves more generally through being humble (or more specifically the concept of Bittul which is translated as “nullifying ourselves”) before God. The belt was 32 cubits or arms lengths long, it was tied around and around the Kohen’s body, this process is symbolic of the need to humble ourselves before and give ourselves to God is a an on-going process rather than a once off. Chasidic texts link the belt to the level of the soul known  as Yechida, unity or unified, linked to  becoming one with God.