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Q&A: Holocaust survivors Pinchas Gutter and Mariette Doduck talk about the state of Jew hatred after Oct. 7

Mariette Doduck and Pinchas Gutter have a lot in common. At ages 89, and 92, respectively, they are among the estimated 5,800 remaining Canadians who survived the Holocaust.

Both were children when the Nazis invaded their homes. Both have devoted their lives since coming to Canada as tireless Holocaust educators and community leaders in their respective cities of Vancouver, where Doduck eventually settled in 1947, as a war orphan, and Toronto, which has been Gutter’s permanent home since the 1980s. They’ve both joined March of the Living trips as educators. And just recently, on Dec. 18, 2024, the Governor General named both to the Order of Canada for their contributions to making the country a better place.

The nomination process began four years ago, started in secret by their friends and supporters. Now, the two honourees hope that their ongoing work to fight hatred, racism and antisemitism receives a big boost because the announcement of their awards came just ahead of this week’s 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.

As world leaders joined a group of 50 survivors at the site of the notorious Nazi death camp in Poland on Monday Jan. 27, Doduck and Gutter remained at home, vowing to continue teaching the lessons of the Holocaust so they can fight their growing dread of a world with loud echoes of the social and geopolitical conditions of their own stolen childhoods.

“No child should live the five years that I lived in hiding,” said Doduck during an interview with The CJN Daily. “So I think this will be a way of maybe moving the awareness faster by this honour.”

When the Nazis invaded Belgium in 1940, Doduck was five years old and living in Brussels with her widowed mother and some of her 10 older siblings. Doduck’s mother sent her into hiding with non-Jews, where she survived the war by remaining silent. The Nazis murdered her mother and two of her brothers at Auschwitz. Doduck also worked as a messenger for the resistance. She came to Canada together with three older siblings who had also survived. They settled in Vancouver. (Doduck’s sister Esther Brandt died in that city on Jan. 7.)

Gutter was a Polish boy of seven when the war started, living in Lodz with his Hasidic family of winemakers and his twin sister. The family moved into the Warsaw Ghetto but after the uprising in 1943, the Nazis deported the Gutters to Majdanek, where his parents and sister were immediately killed. He survived six concentration camps, including two where he worked as a slave labourer. It would be another four months after the liberation of Auschwitz until Gutter was freed by Russian and Czech troops, who opened the gates to Theresienstadt in May 1945. After the war, Gutter lived in Israel and South Africa before moving to Toronto in the mid-1980s. He was the first survivor to participate in the USC Shoah Foundation’s digital hologram program

They both sat down to explain what receiving the Order of Canada means to them, and why they won’t retire, especially after Oct. 7. The interview took place over Zoom, and both survivors were wearing their new Order of Canada lapel pins.

Mariette Doduck: We decided to wear them because we’re supposed to wear them now. I got my first letter in the mail with the C.M. on it after my name. But it’s not complete, of course until we arrive in Ottawa/

Pinchas Gutter: There’s gonna be a ceremony. The ribbon and the whole order, where you get it. But of course, at the moment I think the Governor General is very busy with the Prime Minister resigning and things. So you know we should just be patient. We will be patient and wait.

MD: They told me it wouldn’t be, probably,  till the end of 2025. I’m not worried about it. I’m not thinking about it, that we will be called in, but I am delighted, I’ve got to say. 

Ellin Bessner: Do you know how you ended up getting nominated? Has anyone told you that they were the little birdies that did it?

MD: It was suggested by a girlfriend in Toronto who started the ball rolling, got in touch with my daughter, who just told me, and she did all the work with my friends. but they did it in 2020. It took 4 years. So that also was a surprise. I knew nothing about it. My children, my daughters never said a word. They did all the groundwork, So for me. It was a kind of a shock.

EB: Did you get a call from the Governor General?

MD: I was in Philadelphia visiting my newest great-grandchild. Benjamin.  and  I get this call, and this lady says ‘Congratulations!” and I said, ‘Excuse me. I think you’ve got the wrong number, and I hung up.’ Then she called me back, and she was laughing, and she said,’ Is this Mariette?’  She says, ‘It’s my first time on the job, and I’m being hung up on.’

And I said, “Are you playing a joke, is somebody playing a joke on me?” And she became very formal, and she says “We do not play jokes. I want to congratulate you on being bestowed this honour”. And I was like, in shock. I wanted to verify it. That thought, you know, I need papers. I needed documents, which she sent right away, and she said, “You must not tell anyone. You can tell your children, but you’re not to tell your family. Nobody. Not until December 18th when it will be announced.”

PG: I know several people who did that, but of course they don’t want me to tell anybody that they did so, but I knew that. One of them started actually, a few years ago. As Mariette told you, it’s a long process. It’s not something that happens overnight. They asked Eli Rubenstein (national director of March of the Living Canada].  Eli phoned me and told me that he not only did that, but he sent all the alumni from the March of Remembrance and Hope. You know mostly 95 percent of them are not Jewish people. They’re all from different universities doing their PhDs. 

But I can tell you it’s the same thing that happened to me, Mariette. I got this phone call but I didn’t answer. I thought it was one of these scams and things like that, so I didn’t answer it. 

The person said, “I’ve got a very important message for you and something, something.” And I thought to myself, this sounds like something genuine. So I better phone her back. And when I phoned her back the first thing she did was the same as what she said to Mariette. She said “Congratulations you’ve received the Order of Canada, and you can tell your children and your wife, but you mustn’t tell anybody else until the 18th of December”. 

And we just waited, and that was it. And then subsequently [we received] a little packet, where you got the pin you can wear. And so I’ve just put it on my jacket, and I’m waiting now for them to contact me when the ceremony is going to be. But I’m not concerned. I’ve got the Order of Canada, and I’ve had, like Mariette, I’m sure she’s had 50 to 60 phone calls. I had some from everywhere.

MD: I was in shock to receive this prestigious award, for my work has always been for children and not depending on public recognition. I’m also the co-founder of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre. So I have always worked with this. I don’t think we’ve done this for recognition. We just wanted to make the world aware.

And for me, when I arrived here in Canada, in 1948, as a war orphan, I was told that I would die by the age of 30. That I wouldn’t see my 30th birthday. The government official also said that I would amount to nothing. That I would be a burden to the community or to the government.

I’ve worked all my adult life to make the world aware. So for me, I will use this award as an opportunity to draw attention to racism, to intolerance and antisemitism. Also I’m accepting this in recognition of all immigrants and child survivors who have arrived in Canada, in a place that originally did not want us. Like the book “None is Too Many” [by the late Irving Abella and Harold Troper documenting Canada’s racist policies which kept Jewish refugees from Europe out the country during the government of wartime prime minister Mackenzie King].

EB: Why did they say you were going to pass away by the age of 30? Because of your deprivation, and your being in hiding, and your malnourishment?

MD:  The thing was, the four of us (siblings) weren’t accepted [as war orphans] at the same time. We couldn’t have a cavity. We couldn’t have this. We couldn’t have that. There were rules that they gave. I was only 12 years old, and they made it so difficult. 

So I wanted a better world for children… because we then have a world where no child should live the five years that I lived in hiding. 

I am honoured to receive this (award). If this will teach more and then listeners become witnesses for us, to what happened to us children. Camp survivors that I’ve worked with, child survivors who are in their eighties and nineties, we’ve always with this. I’ve dedicated my adult life since I was really a kid to this. So I think this will be a way of maybe moving the awareness faster by this honour.

I happen not to like publicity. I am quite shy. I’m very easy to talk to. I can speak off the cuff, but I am not comfortable receiving something. So for me this was like a shock.

EB: Pinchas, we’ve heard how it sits a little bit uncomfortable for Mariette, but also a little bit, sort of, finally, like a circle for her. But how does this award land for you?

PG: My attitude was a bit different. I didn’t expect to receive this award. I am a person who kind of doesn’t believe that you get the awards and things like that. But what actually happened to me is different.

Let me tell you a story. When I was liberated in 1945, by the Russian army on the 8th of May, the last day of the war, in Theresienstadt, after a death march from Germany to Czechoslovakia, we arrived there about 2-3 weeks before we were liberated. Those people who could still stand, ran out. Because the gates were open. The Czech gendarmes who were guarding us disappeared. And we saw Russian infantry with bandoliers with rifles and bullets, and they had Mahorka, which is tobacco, in one boot. They had these white boots. They had food in the other boot. They were chasing Germans out. And there were women with prams and little babies, and young girls and old men, and they were being beaten. They were being abused. 

I was at that time going on 13, and I come from a Hasidic frum home. So I knew nothing about relationships between men, women, or sex, or anything like that. But I saw these Russians or Czechs or whoever grabbing young women, taking them away, and really being very nasty. and I felt compassion.

After five years and six concentration camps, and losing my extended family and my immediate family in Majdanek. My sister and my father and my mother were murdered the day we arrived in Majdanek, and there I felt compassion because I couldn’t feel anything else. I saw people suffering, and I felt compassion.  And from that time on, whenever I feel people that need help, I try to do that. 

And Mariette spoke about children. And when I came to Canada the first thing I did was I helped elderly people. Why? Because people don’t want to be volunteers at old age homes. People dribble. They don’t look very nice. You don’t want to see yourself when you get old, so it’s very difficult to get people to volunteer. So that was my first job, and it had nothing to do with the Holocaust.

And since then I’ve started doing a lot of Holocaust education. But I did it together with others: I worked with Indigenous people. I worked with Black people. I worked with all kinds of different people. I always worked with people that needed help, and it didn’t really make any difference to me. 

So I was very apprehensive about getting [the Order of Canada] and I felt extremely honoured that I got it. I really felt that it would create a climate where other people would try and do the same thing. If one person can do it, another person can do it, and every person that does just a little bit can make the world a better place.  You don’t have to go and solve all the problems of the world. It’s impossible. But you can do a little bit, and a little bit is important because it adds up, it adds up, and it adds up, and makes the world a better place.

EB: You see what Canada is like now since Oct. 7th, where antisemitism is tolerated in the highest levels of academics, of unions, of government, of police who are trying to do whatever they do. But it doesn’t seem like they’re doing a good job. So I’m wondering when you talk to your Jewish audiences, how can your life and your legacy be effective now? When we’re living in this world where Jew hatred for your great-grandchildren is back. 

MD: The question you’re asking about tolerance is understanding. Intolerance is ignorance. That’s what it means to me. I don’t know if that’s possible. We are trying to use tolerance because in our whole life, tolerance and patience and teaching is an important fact, and the teaching in our Judaism has always been about learning and teaching.

During all the years, just before COVID, I didn’t speak. Not on Zoom, not on anything, because I felt “What did we change?”

During COVID, I re-lived Europe because I was locked in.

Then came Oct. 7. I couldn’t breathe. With every IDF soldier that is dying out there, it’s like I’m losing a child.

Going back to tolerance and intolerance, I would say we made a niche. The Vancouver Holocaust Educational Centre, for example. It took us almost 50 years to get Holocaust education taught in Grade 6 and Grade 11 right now. The school board doesn’t want that. The B.C. government has agreed to put in a Grade 10 Holocaust education module. It’s been a fight uphill in Canada to teach about the past, about the Second World War.

But, I find I’ve got a bright light. I find my students today are better educated in history and I find their questions much more involved. Some. I’m not saying all those children ask me questions, but I mean when I speak, or even teachers when they’re asking

Oct. 7 didn’t just make the Jews hated. All children in the world were affected by it, by the news, by their parents talking about the hate that happened. So I’m saying now, again, the education [is key]

I find that in my symposium and everything there’s a long line up, and the questions are much better than they were just before COVID. So I have to say we are a light in the educational department of hate. Antisemitism has been an undercurrent our whole life, for 2,000 years we’ve had this current.

Even the first time I learned about the phrase “Jew them down” when I came to Canada. I said to my Canadian-born husband [Sidney Doduck]—I wasn’t going to marry a survivor—I said, ‘What does that mean?’

He had to explain to me. I didn’t know these slangs that people use. 

PG:  Every 100 years there’s a change. And there is this kind of uptick. In the 1930s nobody wanted to take refugees. Jewish refugees were anathema. They were not accepted anywhere except in one place in South America. They accepted a few people, and then there was this Evian conference, and everybody said, “Yeah, yeah, we feel sorry for them, but we don’t want them.”

Things have changed. I mean, the world has changed. I mean, according to the news, Canada has taken in 30,000 Syrian refugees that ran away. Then they took refugees from other places. Germany, who hates refugees, they have taken in first of all the Turks, and then they recently taken in Syrians and and others. So there is a change in the sense that people are actually doing things for refugees. You know. They put up tents. They give them some food. As bad things are, there is a change. So we do continue changing for the better.

I am a great believer. I was always an optimist. At the moment, I am a bit despondent, because, you know, things are going the other way from that point of view. But I still believe. And this is what I try to achieve in my teaching. And that’s why I don’t stop. I believe… the most important thing is not to be a bystander.

And that is why I’m not going to stop. I mean, like Mariette, there’s a limit to how much I can do nowadays. And, Dorothy, my wife, wants me to kind of do as little as possible, because she sees how much [mentally] it takes out of you. Of course it takes it out of you. People don’t realize you get liberated from the Holocaust, but you don’t get liberated from the Holocaust. The Holocaust is always inside you.

We’ve got my great grandchildren, who live in Pittsburgh… and a few weeks ago we were in Pittsburgh, and spent four or five days together with our grandchildren and great grandchildren. It was a Mechiya as they say in Yiddish, you know, it was really fantastic. And that’s basically what I want to do. I want them to enjoy themselves. I want them to grow up, and not to have any kind of suffering.

I’m scared for them, I am. I wasn’t scared in the Warsaw Ghetto. I was all of eight or nine or ten years old. I did everything that they didn’t allow you. I went to an underground cheder with seven other children, when my father could still have a Melamed to teach us, and we studied the Talmud.  I wasn’t scared of the Germans. I was fearful of something that they’re going to do to me, but I wasn’t scared inside me. Nothing at all. Today, I feel that I don’t want my children to have any kind of fears about it.

MD: I feel the same way. I have six great-grandchildren, and we are expecting my seventh. Only from three married grandchildren. So I’m lucky. So I’ve got a lot to live for. But I’m also fearful for them. We’ll keep on doing this, for them, to make their life a safer place. 

I never was afraid. The students asked me, “Are you afraid”?  I left home and I was four and a half years old, and I didn’t come out till 1945. I knew about life. When I came to Canada at 11 and a half, I was in a child’s body, but in an adult mind. When I tell the teachers “I don’t want your children to live in fear.”

I’m not fearing about Canada. I’ll tell you a story. My grandson-in-law, and granddaughter are a young Zionist couple. They have 3 kids. When Oct. 7 happened, they wanted to go to Israel.

I said, ”John, you were born in Canada. We are the front line people. You have to stay in Canada. We have to fight here. The IDF will always fight for us, but if you are thrown out of Canada, today you have a place to go, as I didn’t when I was a child. So you are safe. You must stay in Canada.

We are the front line. We must stay and fight here in our country. In every country in the world,  people shouldn’t run away. They should stay in the country where they are, and fight their government and fight their newspapers, fight the computers, all lines of communication. Because we are the front line. We are helping the IDF. Those are my last words. 

The post Q&A: Holocaust survivors Pinchas Gutter and Mariette Doduck talk about the state of Jew hatred after Oct. 7 appeared first on The Canadian Jewish News.

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Antisemitism Data Illustrates the ‘New Normal’

Pro-Hamas protesters at Columbia University on April 19, 2024. Photo: Melissa Bender via Reuters Connect

JNS.orgAs we mark the 80th anniversary of the Allied victory over Nazi Germany and the liberation of the concentration camps, that terrible chapter of history no longer seems so distant. While there are only 15.7 million Jews among a global population of more than 8 billion—still less than the nearly 17 million who were alive in 1938, the year before World War II broke out—the uninitiated could be forgiven for thinking that the number is at least twice that, given the volume of media and political attention that the Jewish state and Jewish communities outside attract.

The great majority of Jews live in either the United States or Israel. For most of the postwar period, both countries were a potent symbol of Jewish life freed from the strictures of the past. Israel was a radical departure from the previous 2,000 years of Jewish history, a land where Jews as a collective could live as a sovereign entity defended by their own military, no longer dependent on non-Jews for their well-being and security. America—the “Goldene Medina” as some Yiddish-speaking immigrants called it—marked a similar rupture with the past, as a republic with no established religion and no history of antisemitic legislation (apart from one intemperate order issued by Gen. Ulysses Grant at the end of the Civil War, which was swiftly dispensed with by President Lincoln. “I do not like to hear a class or nationality condemned on account of a few sinners,” Lincoln wrote.)

In 2025, such a rosy narrative is no longer possible. Israel is in a frankly odd position. It remains traumatized by the Hamas pogrom on Oct. 7, 2023. It is bitterly divided, perhaps more so than at any other time during its brief existence. It has delivered powerful and sustained blows to its mortal enemies in Gaza and Lebanon, but Iran’s ambitions to weaponize its nuclear program, which will be bolstered by any deal agreed to by the Trump administration that does not involve the complete dismantling of its various facilities and development sites, remain a nagging, overarching threat.

Above all, Israel’s very existence, and not its policies, continues to be the primary complaint of its adversaries.

Meanwhile, in America, Jews are facing the most hostile atmosphere in living memory. According to data gathered and published last week by the Anti-Defamation League, there were a whopping 9,354 antisemitic incidents during 2024, the highest ever recorded in its annual audit. That marked a 5% rise on 2023 and an 893% rise over the past decade. In 2015, one year after another bitter war in Gaza triggered by relentless Hamas rocket attacks on Israeli communities in the south, the ADL recorded 942 incidents. At the time, it seemed like an unprecedented challenge. Now, it feels like a drop in the ocean.

Perhaps the most significant aspect of the ADL report was its finding that nearly 60% of the incidents in 2024 were related to the Jewish state. “Increasingly, extreme actors in the anti-Israel space have incorporated antisemitic rhetoric into their activism; it has become commonplace for perpetrators across the political spectrum to voice hatred of Israel or conspiracy theories about the state in a range of antisemitic attacks,” the ADL noted.

Among the offenders creating this poisonous atmosphere were Students for Justice in Palestine, sundry groups on the far left and our very own fifth column—the spectacularly misnamed “Jewish Voice for Peace.” Additionally, slogans urging Israel’s destruction and chants of “We don’t want no Zionists here” are not restricted to public spaces but instead are increasingly present outside Jewish-owned businesses, Jewish schools from K-12, synagogues and community centers. College campuses are, of course, the riskiest locations with nearly 1,500 incidents involving offenders who would no doubt call themselves “anti-Zionists” and leave it at that.

In the same week that the ADL released its report, Tel Aviv University published its annual report on antisemitism worldwide, which made for similarly depressing reading. That report noted a decline in incidents during 2024 from their peak in the closing months of 2023, when Israel was still reeling from the venom of the Hamas assault. “The sad truth is that antisemitism reared its head at the moment when the Jewish state appeared weaker than ever and under existential threat,” noted the report’s editor, professor Uriya Shavit. Even so, the 2024 decrease was not uniform: Australia, Canada, Spain and Italy were among countries recording a rise in outrages targeting Jews compared with the previous year. Clearly, some people like to kick the Jews at the very moment when they are down, while others take a more long-term view.

The fact that so many incidents were logged in the immediate aftermath of the Oct. 7 slaughter tells us that, just as in the Muslim world, the fundamental issue is not what Israel does, but the mere fact that Israel is. This reality manifests at every single pro-Palestinian—more precisely, pro-Hamas—demonstration. Some protesters will carry signs urging Israel to “stop bombing hospitals,” which is a gross misrepresentation of the IDF’s tactics, with its implication that Israel seeks to deliberately kill Palestinian civilians, but not necessarily antisemitic.

The point is that the majority of demonstrators seem more motivated by the prospect of destroying Israel than they are by the plight of the Palestinians. That is why chants urging the “liberation” of Palestine “from the river to the sea” and banners condemning “Zionism” are far more common. It also helps to explain why the pro-Hamas movement has studiously ignored the spread of anti-Hamas protests in Gaza, which, in recent days, have included calls to release the hostages still in Hamas captivity not because of any humanitarian reasons, but because growing numbers of Gazans have final twigged that their lives would be infinitely easier if Hamas would just back down.

The ongoing symbiosis of hatred of Israel with classical antisemitism can be twisted to make the point—as some anti-Zionists do, particularly those who identify as Jews—that Israel’s existence is the principal source of antisemitism today. Within the Jewish community, that needs to be countered with the message that we cannot succumb to victim-blaming. Outside of the Jewish community, we need to stress over and again that the security of the Jews will never again be left to non-Jews.

In both spaces, Jews need to walk with their heads held high, knowing in their hearts that we do not have to apologize for Israel. That may seem obvious, but I write these words in the anticipation that future audits undertaken by the ADL or anyone else are likely to remain consistent over the next few years, and may even worsen as conspiracy theories about Jewish influence and Israeli power that are not directly connected to the Palestinians take hold.

The post Antisemitism Data Illustrates the ‘New Normal’ first appeared on Algemeiner.com.

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Playing With Fire When It Comes to Tehran

Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks during a meeting with government officials in Tehran, Iran, April 15, 2025. Office of the Iranian Supreme Leader/WANA (West Asia News Agency)/Handout via REUTERS/File Photo

JNS.orgAbout two-dozen Mossad agents broke into a clandestine warehouse in the middle of an industrial section of Tehran on Jan. 30, 2018, making away with more than 100,000 documents outlining the Islamic regime’s nuclear-weapons work. This collection covered years of Iran’s nuclear archive, including the AMAD Project’s production plans, enrichment projections and warhead designs.

Flash-forward seven years. According to an article that came out this week in Iran International, Rafael Grossi, director of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), said: “Iran is not far from having a nuclear problem. They don’t have it, we know it. But the material for it, it’s already there. To make a few warheads.”

Grossi added that “it would be a matter of months, not years” and that the level of visibility is “insufficient.”

This is certainly verified by Andrea Stricker of the Foundation for Defense of Democracies, who recently wrote about a small building being destroyed by the Israelis in airstrikes last September, as part of the Parchin military project. The building was not on the list of what the IAEA had planned to visit, nor was it in the AMAD documents.

A 2018 Mossad document revealed that this building was used to test the explosive capability of a nuclear bomb’s core, known as a “hydrodynamic chain reaction.” Yet the IAEA could not enter it, and Grossi did not appear to even be aware of what was going on there.

This brings up one of the great flaws of the former nuclear deal—the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action, or JCPOA—made in 2015 under the Obama administration: The IAEA does not have immediate access to monitor and verify areas of Iranian nuclear weaponization. According to Section T of the JCPOA, Iran must “describe in writing its activity,” and the IAEA would simply engage in verification, post facto.

What, if anything, is to prevent a rogue state such as Iran from concealing its nuclear program?

The JCPOA also says that Iran must collect its own soil samples for inspection of nuclear particles (tantamount to saying that a serial drug user must conduct his own drug tests).

Yet about one month ago, speaking before a Senate Intelligence Committee, Tulsi Gabbard, the US director of national intelligence, declared that “the international community continues to assess that Iran is not building a nuclear weapon, and Supreme Leader [Ali] Khomeini has not authorized its nuclear-weapon program that it suspended in 2003.”

She added that “in the past decade, we have seen a taboo within Iran against discussing Iran’s nuclear operations in public, likely emboldening nuclear-weapons advocates in its decision making public” She also added that “Iran’s nuclear stockpiles are at its highest levels, and it is unprecedented for state without nuclear weapons.”

Iran now possesses enough highly enriched uranium at the 60% level for at least six nuclear bombs. Israel is a one-bomb state.

Iran has just reported that after three years, they are turning on the cameras in their nuclear sites (at least the ones that are known).

After Israel decimated several of Iranian defensive nuclear sites in September 2024—with Hezbollah and Hamas in a tattered state, and President Donald Trump attempting to obliterate the Houthis from the Bad al-Mandeb Strait—and with the Iranian rial worth 0.000024 of a dollar, a majority of the country’s 90 million people are reportedly disgusted with the theocracy.

Most people have been born after the Islamic Revolution of 1979, and a slim majority (50.1%) classify themselves as atheists. Many mosques (approximately 75,000) have been recently shuttered in Tehran.

I remain highly concerned that the regime wants to play out the clock and use the time as a smokescreen to conceal its weaponization program.

Remember, it is the Iranians who first invented the Persian Bazaar.

The post Playing With Fire When It Comes to Tehran first appeared on Algemeiner.com.

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‘For This, Have You Been Chosen’

“The High Priest Aaron,“ oil on panel, between circa 1545 and circa 1550, painted by Juan de Juanes. Photo: Museo del Prado/Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.

JNS.orgI trust that Jews worldwide enjoyed a meaningful and memorable Passover with family and friends. Of course, no one could stop thinking of our brothers and sisters who have been held hostage in Gaza now for 18 months. We continue to pray for them to speedily enjoy their own anxiously awaited “season of freedom” and liberation.

After all the excitement of Passover, we now return to the weekly Torah readings; the portion this week is Shmini (Leviticus, Chapters 9-11). We read about Aaron, the brother of Moses, who was consecrated into his position as the nation’s very first high priest, the Kohen Gadol.

After Moses concluded the initiation service, it was time for Aaron to begin officiating over the sacrificial offerings in the sanctuary.

“And Moses said to Aaron, ‘Come near to the Altar and perform the services …’ ”

Why did Moses have to tell his brother to come near? The Torah scholar Rashi, quoting the Midrash, says that because Aaron inadvertently had a hand in the tragic Golden Calf episode, he felt unworthy and ashamed to approach the Altar. Moses, therefore, encouraged him by saying: “Why are you ashamed? For this, have you been chosen.”

The simple meaning is that Aaron was chosen by God to be the high priest and Moses was telling him that he must do his job regardless of feeling unfit for the position. But how did that set Aaron’s mind at ease?

There is a Chassidic interpretation that turns this verse on its head. When Moses said, “Why are you ashamed? For this have you been chosen,” he was telling his brother that the very reason he was chosen for the exalted position of Kohen Gadol was precisely because he felt ashamed. If he took it for granted that he was the right man for the job, then he would clearly be the wrong man. God desires humility and despises arrogance. By feeling ashamed and overwhelmed by such a high position, Aaron demonstrated that he was the perfect person for such a prominent position.

The Talmud writes that three characteristics have traditionally personified the Jewish people—compassion, bashfulness and benevolence (Yevamot, 79a). While you may know lots of Jews who appear rather forward and far from reticent, according to our sages, the hallmarks of the Jewish people are to be shy, humble and modest. Hubris and haughtiness should be foreign to us. We are not meant to take ourselves so seriously.

Rabbi Sholom Nelson was one of the first students to enroll in the Chabad-Lubavitch Yeshivah in New York when it was founded in 1940. In the early 1950s, the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson—encouraged him to study shechita, kosher slaughter, and to become a qualified ritual slaughterer. But he resisted the idea, feeling that he was unworthy of such a position, as it demands a high degree of knowledge and piety. The Rebbe’s response was: “The very fact that you feel unworthy proves that you are most worthy of being a shochet.”

We live in a mad world where social media rules, where those who shout the loudest are all too often the most powerful, and the quiet voice of truth often goes unheard. “The lies are always loud, and the truth is always quiet,” goes the old folk saying.

In the book of 1 Kings, the Prophet Elijah experiences a Divine revelation. There is wind, an earthquake and a fire. But he is told, “God is not in the wind … not in the earthquake … and not in the fire.” Only afterward does Elijah hear “the still, soft voice” (Kings 1, 19:12). This is the true word of God. Indeed, this phrase, “the still, soft voice,” has made its way into the famous Unetaneh Tokef prayer, which is a highlight of the Mussaf service on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. God is Almighty, even if His voice is still and soft.

I remember hearing someone coaching a debater and telling him, “When your point is weak, shout like hell!” The quiet voice of truth is authentic. The shouters must shout because their arguments have no basis in fact or logic.

Aaron was the most suited man for the role of high priest precisely because he was soft and humble. May we never need to shout.

Let it be our character, humility and honorable conduct that make us truly worthy.

The post ‘For This, Have You Been Chosen’ first appeared on Algemeiner.com.

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