Sermon: Holocaust Memorial Day (Laura Marks)
Written by Writings & Sermons by others — 31 January 2019
Thousands of people, men, women and children, fleeing from slavery and exploitation have abandoned their homes in Egypt and are now living as refugees, homeless and stateless without food, water or shelter. The story of the Israelites sounds so familiar.
We read today from Exodus the story of a people, our people, torn from their homes. The Israelites, we read, escaped the terrifying world of violence, degradation and persecution but into the unknown. With no time to pack, no bread and no plan, they found themselves in search of a new home, and safety.
Now in Yitro, the story continues – with Moses eventually meeting up with his family and his father in law, Jethro. His relief is barely disguised, as tired, stressed and emotionally largely alone, Moses finds some support and a father figure to offer advice
“So Moses went out toward Jethro, prostrated himself and kissed him, and they greeted one another, and they entered the tent.”
Verse 8 then continues…”Moses told his father in law [about] all that the Lord had done to Pharaoh and to the Egyptians on account of Israel, [and about] all the hardships that had befallen them on the way”.
This meeting allowed Moses to share his traumatic story and to be cared for, at least temporarily, in his father in laws home.
The Israelites were not the first to be wrenched from their homes, and sadly, they were far from the last. Nor was Moses the first refugee to need to unburden his story and to lean on a strong, loving shoulder. From the Israelites of the bible to the Rohingya Muslims of Myanmar today, people have been torn from their families, friends and familiar places, the safety and sanctity of their homes, for a life of uncertainty when things become beyond intolerable.
And so often, like in both these cases, the persecution is embedded in deep prejudice based not on what people have done, but simply who they are.
The theme for HMD this year, commemorated on the 27th January, is Torn from home.
Home is a powerful concept. Home for me includes Basel’s tail wagging greeting me at the door, watching the Apprentice together on catch up or maybe a family Friday night meal around the table with vegan options and Dan on guitar or, from my own childhood, trips away in the caravan, our home away from home. For the vast majority of us, home is where we feel safe and loved.
Blanche Benedick, a Holocaust survivor remembers: ‘My mother always seemed to be in the kitchen. I remember coming home from school and being greeted by delicious cooking smells.’
For Blanche, and for so many other Jews in the 1930s, however, ‘home’ became unsafe as soon as the Nazis came to power. In the lead up to the Holocaust, Nazis deliberately undermined the notion of ‘secure home’ by imposing curfews, and seizing personal possessions. And a few months before war broke out, Jewish people in Nazi Germany were told that it was now legal for their homes to be taken from them at any time.
As the war developed, and Nazi control spread, Jewish people were forced from their homes into ghettos and concentration camps. Families lived in overcrowded, dirty and unsanitary conditions; disease and starvation were rife.
The Holocaust was a threat to civilization. Yet despite its horrors, genocides have taken place since in Cambodia, Rwanda, Bosnia and Darfur, and each saw communities forced from their homes: into Killing Fields, into forests and hiding places, into concentration camps and refugee camps.
Some survivors were only able to survive by hiding under floorboards or in attics, or in forests and bushes, as Chantal Uw-am-ah-oro did in Rwanda. Her hiding place was not home but it saved her life.
And when survivors of genocide return to their homes, as Besima a Bosnian survivor reported, she found that it had been taken over by members of the communities involved in killing her loved ones. That house no longer felt like her home.
We are hearing right now about Muslims forced into camps in China and of course, the European refugee crisis of today is on our very doorsteps with people drowning in the English channel, and, for those who do reach our shores, facing a difficult life with minimal resources and an often hostile reception.
Many survivors of the Holocaust and of more recent genocides however, have made new homes here in Britain. They have struggled to overcome the trauma of genocide and establish a new home here, in the absence of loved ones who were murdered, Susan Pollock, for example, who fled Hungary as a child, losing her entire family and ending up totally alone after the war, has found a new home here – and im delighted that Alyth has played its part in her new life. Susan works with HMDT telling her story, again and again, in the hope that people might hear and learn the lessons.
Ruth Smilg, who was on the Kindertransport, and torn out of her home and the safety of her family, is another member here and I hope again, that Alyth has played a part in helping her build a new life.
I’m also hugely proud of the Drop in, set up by Alyth members offering refugees advice and encouragement as they rebuild their lives and the work of our Mitzvah Day team here who, this year for example, had an Alleppo supper sharing food and stories with refugees from Syria.
We can all play a part in helping create new homes for people who come to Britain to escape genocide or persecution. And we can learn more.
Our research shows that 93% of people who attend a HMD event go on to do more – to talk about genocide, to campaign, or to challenge prejudice. There will be 11000 HMD events this year, including a wonderful event in Barnet Town hall with our own youth singers. I do urge you to attend one of them and to hear first hand, the experiences of refugees from genocide, the ultimate crime of prejudice.
Anti-Semitism, like Islamophobia, racism, homophobia and misogyny, continues to plague the modern world . Following Jethros example, and building on the work here at Alyth, let’s offer people who’ve been traumatised a shoulder to cry on and, a helping hand and a welcome. The world is uncertain, volatile and a breeding ground for prejudice. Lets use this HMD to learn, to act and to make the world a better place for us all.