September 8, 2013

  • Shoah Child: Its a Difficult Thing

    Shoah ChildIts a Difficult Thing
    By Shlomo Phillips © Rosh Hashanah, 5774 (09.06.2013)

    Like many others, I have vivid memories of the Holocaust (Shoah) that can only be explained through reincarnation. I am completely convinced that what is known in Judaism as gilgul neshamot, the rolling of souls, is true. We exist beyond this lifetime. What God has given, the soul, lives on.

    Like many others, my memories led me to formally convert into Judaism (through an unaffiliated Jewish Renewal based congregation). Orthodoxy was not an option for us.

    Like many others, my memories have been met with varying responses. Most rabbis I have shared my experiences with have accepted the validity of my memories. Other people I know have had very different experiences. The purpose of this piece is not to bash the rabbinim (God-forbid) but rather to express honestly and openly the frustration many of us feel around this issue. My thoughts on this continue below the poem.

    Its a difficult thing
    to see a world others deny,
    to feel their skeptical sting
    about the way one's soul doth fly."Go to a rabbi!
    He will understand!
    Explain your situation.
    He'll help develop a plan."
    A way to be restored
    To our people, our nation.
    A warm, loving hand.

    Its a difficult thing
    to have memories that linger on,
    to live with the sorrows remembering brings,
    to be told: "even if true" those days are long gone
    "Get over it!" "You dreamed it. Move on!"

    But those days are not over,
    at least not for me.
    Although this body has grown old,
    my fire once hot, now waxes cold;
    yet within me, and not so deep,
    there remains a young Shoah boy,
    still desperate to flee. To flee. To flee.

    "Flee to a rabbi!
    He will understand!
    Explain your situation.
    He'll help develop a plan."
    A way to be restored
    To our people, our nation.
    A warm, loving hand.

    Oh how they stripped us
    of our dignity and our wealth!
    How they tormented our bodies
    and destroyed our vital health.
    All the pain we could handle;
    our sufferings, like a candle,
    for pain can be snuffed out, but the stealth,
    and the doubt, by which they denied our humanity!
    Oh how they reduced us to animals, no to less.
    They even made us question, 'Where is the Bless'd?'

    But fires burn out
    And ovens shut down.
    In time the dead are buried,
    May their souls the Merciful God ferry.
    The survivors continue on,
    Many scarred and cast down
    The world was truly sorry,
    Promising "Never again" with sincerest frown
    -- until next time -- how they fawn!

    And we who died in broken bodies,
    but never in our souls, truth be told;
    who still remember;
    whom the fires burned up like timber,
    we who remain unknown are as the coals
    of souls uncared for, unloved, alone.

    "Go to a rabbi!
    He will understand!
    Explain your situation.
    He'll help develop a plan."
    A way to be restored
    To our people, our nation.
    A warm, loving hand.

    Dear rabbi I come,
    Please, understand my pain.
    I share with you my heart
    Rely not only on your brain.

    I was but a child you see,
    And yet I was a man;
    my bar mitzvot was just past
    when they came and I had to flee.
    T'was then I saw my parents the last.

    I was on a train
    speeding through the night,
    and then I was lost,
    ever beyond their sight.
    What came next I'll not recite.

    "When will you ever grow up?
    Gentile you are, born are bred!"
    But I want to go home I pled.
    "This Jewish thing is all in your head!"

    Dear rabbi please experience my pain!
    You of all men know how they lied!
    Please give me your shelter, I can explain.
    To you I came, please, be on my side.

    Though they denied it, I am human, like you.
    Though they condemned it, I am, like you, a Jew.
    For me nothing has changed, I know this is true
    As a child I was slaughtered, now I turn to you.

    Too many rabbis turn away,
    affirming what our enemies say.
    They close their doors:
    "You're not a Jew"
    and I, a young Shoah boy, remain,
    far away and trapped within this pain.

    Its a difficult thing
    to see a world others deny,
    to feel their skeptical sting
    about the way one's soul doth fly.

    No matter the rejection! Go find a rav!
    Seek out one who will understand!
    Explain your situation and stand.
    Unafraid, there must be a plan,
    some way to be restored
    to our people, our nation.
    A warm, loving hand.
    Please HaShem help them
    to hear and to understand.

    By Shlomo Phillips © Rosh Hashanah, 5774 (09.06.2013)

    Whenever the subject of the Shoah (Holocaust) comes up among our people the children who suffered and died are usually mentioned with extra remorse. None of the victims deserved what happened of course but when our hearts turn to the murdered children somehow the enormity of the evil that was the Shoah feels heightened, more extreme.At least 1.5 million children died in the Shoah, over a million of these were Jews. Where did they go?

    Judaism is divided on this issue, as it is on most issues. While non-Orthodox Jewish authorities do not usually accept the ancient Jewish teaching of gilgul neshamot (the 'rolling of souls' from lifetime to lifetime) many of the Orthodox and almost all of the Chassidim do. Unfortunately for those born outside of the Covenant the Orthodoxy tends to be the least welcoming of the movements. For information on the Jewish movements see my study HERE.

    There are a great number of people today, Jews and non-Jews alike, who have clear (or in some cases vague) memories of Shoah experiences from their previous life. Many of these people desperately want to return home to our people but find the doors closed to them by our rabbinim. The Nazi denial of who we are as a people failed. We're still here and the Third Reich is gone. But for many victims, aliya (return to our people) remains a dream. While heroic efforts are undertaken to return Jews from war zones and tribal dangers in places like Africa (and Baruch HaShem for it!) little to nothing is being done for the Jewish victims of the Shoah who died and have returned, sometimes outside of Klal Israel. And for too many even after formally converting our experiences are not accepted. There are no easy answers and yet our experiences need to be heard, not only for our sakes but for the healing of our people entire. We are of the children you mourn. We are among you. We are in your shuls, your churches, your workplaces, your families.

    In my case, these memories began surfacing in 1969 through a continuing recurring dream. This memory has been the guiding factor of my life for both good and ill. I seek to share these memories HERE. Last night (the first day of Rosh Hashanah, 5774) I had my dream/memory again and I awoke with this poem. I thought I'd share it with you. As always I invite any comments you might have.

    For us the Nightmare is not over.

    Shalom and L'Shanah Tovah for a wonderful year whenever you may read this.
    ~ Shlomo

    The Holocaust: Learn the Truth About What Really Happened!

    Be the Blessing you were created to beand

    Don't let the perfect defeat the good.