Few objects made it over the trans-Atlantic journey of my maternal grandparents, Samuel and Rachel Ehrlich, from Europe to America, but one of the most amazing heirlooms salvaged from that time is my grandfather’s Sukkos machzor, printed in 1870 in Warsaw.
At times I open it and leaf through the yellow pages, grown stiff from age. It transports one to another time: Bustling Polish streets; a thriving Jewish community; Jewish peddlers hawking their wares; chassidic rebbes walking the streets flocked by pupils; housewives buying food for Shabbos at the market; hundreds of crowded synagogues and shtiebels; political rivalries among Zionists and socialists and traditionalists. A world that vanished so very long ago.
My favorite page of the machzor is its “tefillah b’ad shalom hakeisar,” the prayer for the welfare of the tsar, a text that offers deep insight into the atmosphere of the time. The prayer describes the Russian monarch as “Our master the tsar, the great, the righteous, the upright” and then goes on to offer blessings to Tsar Aleksandr Mikhailovich (Aleksandr II); his wife, Tsaritsa Maria Aleksandrovna; their son and heir to the throne Aleksandr Aleksandrovich; his wife, Maria Fyodorovna; and other family members.
This tefillah is especially astounding given that, historically, the Russian tsar was no friend to the Jewish people. Yet for centuries, despite the burden of an oppressive and anti-Semitic government in the Diaspora, Jews throughout the Russian empire prayed for the tsar’s well being.
Carefully scrolling through the pages of the machzor, I often marvel at how different my experience as a Diaspora Jew is compared to that of my zaidie.
After all, over the past two years alone I’ve been a guest at the White House five times, on various visits on behalf of the Orthodox Union. It is, I believe, a profound blessing from Hakadosh Baruch Hu that Jewish Americans are warmly welcomed in the halls of government.
That I can sit with the president of the United States – proudly wearing a yarmulke and being able to speak my mind freely on issues of natural concern – is no longer a novelty but an American fact of life.
It has become totally normal to me to sit alongside the governor of New York, Andrew Cuomo, as he responds to acts of anti-Semitism – declaring that any act of hostility toward a Jew is an act of hostility to the state of New York and then proclaiming a program of security for Jewish institutions.
How blessed we are to live in this country, and particularly in these times. Just last month I attended the White House’s Yom Ha’Atzmaut (Israel Independence Day) reception, marking the state of Israel’s 69th birthday, hosted by Vice President Mike Pence.
While the White House has long acknowledged Jewish holidays and hosted Chanukah parties and Pesach Seders, recognizing Yom Ha’Atzmaut is a whole new level of outreach to our community.
Never since Israel’s founding in 1948 had the American government marked the country’s independence with such a celebration. Honoring Israel’s independence not only represents our government’s recognition of the centrality of Israel to the Jewish people, as other Jewish holidays might, it also emphasizes America’s unique bond with Israel. What other country has its Independence Day recognized at a White House ceremony?
Vice President Pence’s remarks were especially moving.
“Thank you for being here today at the White House to celebrate this day, the anniversary of a moment that will be remembered for eternity,” he began. “You’re all here, all of you, regardless of your home, your creed, because on this day, the fifth day in the month of Iyar in the Hebrew calendar in 1948, nothing short of a miracle occurred.
“On that day, in the ancient and eternal homeland of the Jewish people, the state of Israel was reborn. On that day, the Jewish people’s 2,000-year exile, the longest exile of any people anywhere, ended.
“Israel is an eternal testament to the undying fortitude of the Jewish people, to the unfathomable power of human freedom, and to the unending faithfulness of God. Indeed, though Israel was built by human hands, it’s impossible not to sense that just beneath their history lies the hand of heaven.”
How incredible to hear these words from the mouth of the vice president of the United States.
When viewed in its historical context – with the memories of Yom HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron’s memorials still fresh in our minds – the blessing of the American Jewish experience is all the more remarkable. It calls for shevach, praise, and hodaa, gratitude, to Hashem for giving us this freedom in the midst of the Diaspora.
Let us never take these freedoms for granted.
