Reflection on Kinah 41

 I gave this reflection at the South Philadelphia Shtiebel on Tisha B'Av, 5783, when Shtiebelers are invited to introduce different kinot

As many of you know, I was raised in a fundamentalist evangelical Christian home. I was taught that humanity is completely cut off from G!d and that all who don’t become evangelical Christians will experience eternal conscious torment in hell. My parents and churches taught that they and they alone had the truth – and all other religious viewpoints were not only wrong, but evil.

I rejected this view and majored in Judaic studies with a minor in Hebrew in college. I found several teachings in the Talmud that transformed my life, even as I remained Christian, ultimately becoming clergy, albeit a very liberal one who believed that other religions, particularly Judaism, taught truth. I attended my first Tisha B’Av service around that time, at the Temple on Peachtree, a historic Reform synagogue in Atlanta, and it was a powerful and meaningful service. The knowledge that the synagogue had been bombed during the civil rights era made it even more powerful.

Many years later, I found myself drawn to worship regularly in Jewish spaces, and I attended several more Tisha B’Av services, including the Zoom service from the Shtiebel in 2020 when the mezuzot were taken down from the first location on Passayunk, and I continued to be moved by the observance. But nothing prepared me for the Tisha B’Av service in 2021.

As we sat on the floor of Rabbanit Dasi’s home on 13^th Street, surrounded by burning candles, I found myself weeping, brushing away tears, hoping no one would notice. Despite all the study of the tragedies that befell the Jewish people over the millennia, only there, sitting on the floor, did it fully hit home. And a big part of the pain was the recognition that much of the horrific persecution of the Jewish people came at the hands of the Christianity I had been a part of my whole life. I had known this intellectually for a long time – but this was the first time I felt it in the depths of my soul. And I knew that even as I had been trying for my entire adult life to change the Christian church, to help rid it of its deep drive to persecute those who are different, that I could not make much of a dent.

And it shattered me.

The next day, Chaim Fruchter gave an introduction to this kinah, which laments the burning of 12,000 copies of the Talmud (among other sacred Jewish texts) by King Louis IX of France, at the urging of Pope Gregory IX, in a time before the printing press when manuscripts were precious. I became angry as I realized that many Christians – including many liberal Christian denominations – regard this wicked man as a saint – for example, he is the person “Saint” Louis, Missouri is named for and the Catholic Cathedral there is dedicated to him.

I finally decided to become Jewish earlier this year, converting a few days before Shavuot. There is so much of profound value in Judaism that nourishes my soul, and I have found, over the past several years, that being a part of the Jewish community enables me to thrive in a way I never did before.

But as a convert, part of the profound pain of the day for me is the realization that my ancestors and the religion they believed in – and that was my spiritual home for most of my life – is the source of much of the pain of this day. I mourn the loss of the Torah that was destroyed, in France and elsewhere.

May my mourning – our mourning - serve as a tikkun to help bring about geulah shleimah – complete redemption.