Dear GOA Community,
The winter sun was warm in the Birkenau death camp, but the horrors recalled there made us shiver. Following three hours touring the claustrophobic cells of Auschwitz, we now stood in the broad spaces of Birkenau, tracing train tracks past the selection platform and on to the ruins of gas chambers and crematoria. Nothing can truly prepare you for standing at the epicenter of evil. But if you do go, nothing can bolster your spirits like traveling with a group of knowledgeable, committed and proud young Jews.
I had joined thirty-eight Golda Och seniors and five staff participating in Neshama for the final four days of their week in Poland. Our students had already explored the concentration camps of Treblinka and Majdanek, and had visited small cities like Tykocin, Lublin and Tarnow, places where the architecture is a ghostly remnant of centuries of Jewish life, now extinguished. Neshama had entered eerie forests such as Buczyna where thousands of Jews were murdered, sensing these precious souls in this quiet place of sorrow.
Tears flowed down the cheeks of our students as they heard an eyewitness account of 800 young children snatched from the Tarnow orphanage by the Nazis and trucked to the forest where they were dumped into a mass grave and buried alive. A neighbor reported that the dirt continued to heave for hours afterward. We stood silently at the mass grave, lit candles, prayed, and sang softly.
Our students were not passive witnesses to these places of horror. They had come prepared by our staff and their parents to share family memories, each helping us connect to a place of unspeakable horror. Several presented remarkably detailed accounts of their family histories, stories of death for many, and survival for some. Several students wore Israeli flags like superhero capes on their shoulders, as if they had flown in to raise up the precious memories of our people.
Rabbi Rob Kahn has led Israel trips for GOA these past ten years, and he has a remarkable gift for allowing emotions to develop at a natural pace, assuring students that all responses are authentic, whether they weep or cannot cry. Four Israeli counselors–Shakked, Ravid, Itai and Yuval–also shared their family histories and modeled for our students the possibility of honoring the sorrows of the Shoah, while rebuilding and defending Jewish life in Israel.
We had worried in advance about visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau on a Friday. Would the contrast with Shabbat feel too extreme? Yet, hours later, on a chilly Friday night in Krakow, in the unheated Temple synagogue, we joined 200 visitors for a boisterous evening of singing, dancing, and encouraging words of Torah. On this Shabbat mevarchim, anticipating Adar and Purim, we traced the depths and heights of Jewish experience, replaying the traditional passage mi’yagon l’simchah, from despair to joy.
For dinner we stepped next door into the Krakow JCC, a vibrant building of Jewish revival which, under the leadership of Jonathan Ornstein, has become a food pantry and resource center for Ukrainian refugees, most of them non-Jewish. This reminded me of the great Hillel, who taught, “If I am not for myself, then who will be? If I am only for myself, then what am I? And if not now, then when?” We Jews must defend our own people, of course, but that does not give us an excuse to ignore the needs of others, or to fail to act with urgency.
That evening I shared words of Torah with the students, telling them stories about the greatest sage of Krakow and Polish Jewry, Rabbi Moshe Isserles, the Rem”a. According to one legend, his merchant father Israel’s commitment to Shabbat was so strong that he passed up a major sale on a Friday afternoon that would have enriched him. As a reward, his family was granted a son who would become one of the greatest halakhic authorities in our history.
After telling the students about Rema’s great halakhic works, I noted that he also wrote a commentary on the book of Esther called Mechir Yayin. Rabbi Isserles argued that the Megillah’s central message is the importance of making good decisions. We must remember that free will is given to each person to decide whether to pursue the good or to take the seductive path of evil. Mordecai’s message to Esther was not that she would be safe if she approached Achashverosh, but that given the danger to her people, it was worth the personal risk to act in their defense. In our day too, our choices matter, and we must find the clarity and the courage to do the right thing.
While standing in Auschwitz and Birkenau had been powerful experiences, praying in the ancient synagogues of Krakow with our students was even more moving. In the morning most of us visited the Rem”a synagogue, joining locals and visitors, some in modern attire and others in shtreimels, singing the prayers that are our shared inheritance. I kept looking up at the painted ceiling, amazed that the Rema daavened here nearly 500 years ago. True, this wasn’t the normal GOA style of daavening. The girls who came were stuck in a back room with little visual contact to the service. But they too were moved by the opportunity to join their prayers to those of our ancestors.
Back at the hotel we met with Christina, the daughter of a woman who rescued her Jewish friend Helena during the Nazi occupation. Helena later moved to Israel and nominated her friend for recognition by Yad VaShem as one of the Righteous Among the Nations. She reminded us not to walk away from Poland feeling alienated from humanity. Rather, we must look at the world with clarity, recognizing and welcoming friendship where it is found, and strengthening ourselves to confront evil when necessary.
I parted from Neshama as they continued on to Israel, where they have already marked the transition to celebrating the renewal of our people in its ancient homeland. Back in New Jersey, where I have the privilege to witness GOA students embracing the Torah with dedication and skill, I likewise experience the transition mi’yagon l’simchah, from despair to joy. I send your family blessings for a peaceful Shabbat and a joyous month of Adar.
Rabbi Danny Nevins
Head of School