When Vickie, Pastor Ursula Sieg and I returned to the Holstenschule in Neumünster on Thursday to revisit the students who studied the exhibit about Vickie’s mother last year, she had a very special gift for them. Each student received a copy, signed by Pastor Sieg, Vickie and me of Von Breslau bis San Francisco. It is the story of the exhibit about Vickie’s mother that they studied in depth last year.

For the students it is a wonderful souvenir of a project they worked on long and hard. These students, taught lovingly and skilfully by Wolfgang Henke, translated Mrs. Steinberg’s biography from English to German. But it is much more.

The beautiful booklet greatly expands the project’s scope.

The five tall panels of the project are beautiful. But  they require setting up and taking down. People can only see them in one place at a given time.

The booklet, however, that Pastor Ursula Sieg lovingly and skilfully compiled and produced is portable. It can easily fit into one’s computer case to read while he or she rides on the train. It contains the material of the project in a form that people can review many times. It is also a great advertisement for the exhibition.

Nothing, of course, can match the experience of actually hearing Vickie explain in person the details of her mother’s journey and the personal anecdotes she shares about her mother’s life. The booklet, though, is the next best thing.

And, while Vickie can only be in one place at a given time, the booklet can reach as many people as copies are printed.  Pastor Sieg, in her position as Director of Church-School Relations in Northern Germany, is seeing to its publication, printing and distribution. This attractive booklet insures that the lessons of Stefanie Steinberg’s life and travels will reach the hands, eyes and hearts of far more students and adults than the exhibition—wonderful as it is—ever can.

Photo above taken one year ago:
Vickie and I (above) are “embedded” in “our” class at the Holstenschule in Neumünster!

After they studied the life and journeys of Vickie’s mother, Stefanie Steinberg, from Breslau, to Barcelona to an orphanage in Switzerland to NYC to LA and ultimately to San Francisco last year, class members sent her voice messages in German saying what the experience meant to them.

They touched my mother-in-law’s heart.

When we first decided to go to Germany, Vickie’s mother was not thrilled, but these messages warmed her heart. In January we had the privilege of presenting her an honorary Abitur (diploma) with a beautiful letter written by the Head of School, thanking Stefanie for contributing so meaningfully to the students’ learning experience. Stefanie’s eyes welled up with tears as she read the letter.

Although she still paints, works on her computer and attends classes and lectures at 94, the Nazis deprived her of the opportunity to complete her high school education. Now she is grateful that the Holstenschule has put a missing piece of her life in its proper place.

We visited this class again this past Thursday.

“Our” students are now ready to graduate HS and move on to the next phase of their lives. It was a joy to see them. They looked more mature than they did a year ago. They were pleased to see us too, and one of them actually invited us to come to their Abitur Ball in July. Although we cannot make it, Vickie and I are so touched that they asked.

As time moves forward I hope these students will always feel gratified that they helped ease a wonderful woman’s pain from the Nazi era. Their enthusiasm for the project also opened the door to the exhibit being on display in eight different schools this year.

In Pirke Avot (Ethics of the Fathers 4:2) Ben Azzai taught: “מצוה גררת מצוה  One good deed leads to another.” By embracing the Back Home?! exhibit about the life and journeys of Stefanie Steinberg so enthusiastically, these students set in motion a chain reaction of good deeds.

Not only did they ease the pain of an elderly woman, they enabled many other students to learn a bit about the Shoah in a unique way. Who knows what other doors will open in the future?

Indeed, מצוה גררת מצוה One good deed leads to another!

Kurzkommentar zum Tora-Abschnitt Toldot (Genesis 25:19 -28:9)

Obwohl die Tora klar macht (Genesis 25,23), dass es Jakob’s Bestimmung war, den Segen seines Vaters zu empfangen, können Esau’s Klage und bittere Tränen niemanden unberührt lassen, als er zweimal auf seinen Vater eindringt: “Baracheni gam ani, avi!’ – ,Segne mich auch, Vater’, und er erhob seine Stimme und weinte!“ (Genesis 27:38)

Nachdem er seines Bruders Segen unterschlagen hatte, lebte Jakob zwanzig Jahre in Angst vor Esau’s Vergeltung. Auf seiner Rückkehr nach Hause näherte sich Esau mit einem Kriegsregiment von 400 Männern.

Als Jakob dann tatsächlich Israel geworden war, sendet er ein überaus großzügiges Friedensangebot und versöhnt sich mit seinem Bruder. Seine Anstrengung verwandelt einen möglicherweise tödlichen Zusammenstoß in eine herzliche Umarmung. Was steckt für uns heute in dieser Geschichte?

Ich bin ein leidenschaftlicher Zinonist. Ich glaube an Israels Bestimmung, im Mittleren Osten zu existieren. Wenn es 1935 einen Staat Israel gegeben hätte, müssten wir heute keinen Holocaust betrauern. Aber Israels Existenz hatte unbestreitbar einen bitteren Preis, den das Volk Esaus’s, heute die arabische Welt, gezahlt hat.

Ja, wie Esau schwören sie Rache an Israel. Und wie in der biblische Geschichte, kann Israel die Größe seiner biblischen Bestimmung nur beweisen, wenn es Esau’s Tränen trocknet.

Wenn der Preis, den Israel zahlen soll, ist, von der Landkarte und aus den Seiten der Geschichtsbücher zu verschwinden, dann gibt es keine Hoffnung. Das scheint Esau’s Preis zu sein, doch Jakob fand einen Weg.

Ich will die Hoffnung nicht aufgeben, dass auch Israel heute einen Weg finden wird.

Während der Gedenkveranstaltung zur Kristallnacht auf dem Friedhof in Flensburg beeindruckte mich, zu sehen (Foto), wie friedlich Juden und Muslime im Tod nebeneinander liegen. Mögen sie einen Weg finden, auch in Frieden zusammen zu leben.

Translation: with thanks to Pastor Ursula Sieg

(Quick Comment Toldot, Genesis 25:19 -28:9)

In Flensburg, Germany, the Jewish and Muslim cemeteries peacefully lie side by side.

The Torah makes clear (Genesis 25:23) that it was Jacob’s destiny to receive his father’ blessing. But who can remain unmoved by Esau’s bitter tears as he twice pleads with his father, “’Please bless me too, my father,’ and he lifted up his voice and wept.” (Genesis 27:38)?

After he appropriates his brother’s blessing Jacob lives in fear of Esau’s retribution for 20 years. As he returns home, he hears that Esau is approaching with a war-regiment of 400 men.

When he becomes Israel, Jacob sends Esau a most generous peace offering and reconciles with his brother. He turns a potentially deadly clash into a warm embrace.

What’s in this story for us today?

Had there been an Israel in 1935, we would not have to commemorate the Holocaust today. Israel’s existence as a homeland and potential refuge for Jews is not negotiable.

But we cannot deny that Israel’s existence was won at bitter cost to the people of Esau, the Arab world of today.

As in the biblical story, Israel must dry Esau’s tears to truly claim the greatness of its biblical destiny.

If the price of peace is that Israel must walk off the map and the pages of history, then the price is too great.

But in my heart I believe that—despite the decades of intractable conflict—there must be a way for Israel and her neighbors to live in peace, and I pray that they find it.

At the Flensburg cemetery, I saw how peacefully Jews and Muslims lie together in death. May they one day find a way to live together in peace as well!

The Union for Reform Judaism has published the letter I wrote to the memory of my father and read last year in the Leipzig Zoo on Kristallnacht.  This year I accepted the invitation to present it at the Kristallnacht commemoration of the Kirchengemeinde St. Nikolai in Flensburg. Vickie also spoke during the service about her mother’s journey from Breslau to Spain, to Switzerland, to New York and eventually to Los Angeles and San Francisco. She was wonderful!

The music featuring famous Yiddish songs and “Jerusalem of Gold” provided by the Kinder-und Judendchor under the direction of Gerald Jensen and the organist, Michael Mages was absolutely amazing.

I am especially grateful to Pastor Thomas Bornemann  for the care and devotion which went into the planning of the commemoration and to Barbar Winkler who read a German translation of my letter after I shared the text found in English below.
BY RABBI STEPHEN LEWIS FUCHS , 11/09/2015

Is this the place? Is this where they took you, my precious father, on that horrible night?

Is this the place where they spit on you, cursed you, threw mud on you, and reviled you for the crime of being a Jew?

I am so thankful, my father, that you made it out of Kristallnacht – and out of Germany – alive. I am thankful that Uncle Allie and Uncle Morris, who spent the best years of their lives in this city, could get you out and bring you to New York. I am thankful that you met my mother and that my sister and I could be born. I am thankful that you raised us as proud Jews, and I hope you are proud that I am standing here today.

But I cannot be sure.

I cannot be sure because you never, ever spoke to me of the night I have come to this place to commemorate.

You spared me the trauma that – as I now know – scarred you. But I thank you, for though you were scarred, you persevered, you and Mother created a warm, loving Jewish home for Rochelle and me.

You taught us of our ancestor, Rabbi Zvi Hirsch Kalischer, the first Orthodox rabbi to encourage Jews to settle in the Land of Israel in fulfillment of their sacred Covenant with God.

You taught us of your father, Hirsch Wolf Fuchs, who was murdered at the beginning of World War I, leaving you as a baby to grow up without a father to teach you the things only a father can teach.

But we were blessed to have you.

You told me one story that I recall now: When you were born, your parents named you Leo Eliezer Fuchs. Eliezer means “God is my help,” but the German government – even in 1913 – informed your parents that Eliezer was not an acceptable name for a German boy, and so you became Leo Elias Fuchs.

Your silent protest was to never – ever – use your middle name. It was a subtle protest, but it was not lost on me, and so when your oldest grandson came into the world, my wife Victoria and I proudly named him Leo Eliezer Fuchs in your memory.

I am here today with Vickie, whom you would have adored, but you never got to meet her. As we stand in this place today, I fight back tears – but I did not come here only to weep.

Today, my precious father, we have come to a different Germany than the one you left, in the words of the Prophet Zechariah, like, “a brand plucked from the fire!” (Zechariah 3:2)

Yes, Dad, Vickie and I have come to a Germany that is very different.

We have come to Germany as welcome guests in the home of German pastors who have planned for months to make our visit comfortable and productive.

We have come to a Germany where anti-Semitic speech and actions are forbidden.

We have come to a Germany where rabbis, cantors, and Jewish professionals from all Europe learn and train at government expense.

We have come to a Germany that has paid billions in reparations to Israel and to families like ours, whose members suffered the ravages of the Shoah.

To this land of those who perpetrated the greatest horror that I can imagine, I come to say: Remember!

And indeed, I shall remember.

I shall remember the horror as long as there is breath in my body, and my children – and, I pray, my grandchildren and those who come after – will remember as well.

But I also forgive.

I forgive because Germany has asked for forgiveness so many times and in so many ways. I forgive because of all that Germany has done to repent the horror of the Nazi era.

I forgive.

Speaking for myself and my family alone (for that is as far as my influence extends),

I feel called to say, as God said to the children of Israel long ago, “I forgive as you have asked!” (Numbers 14:20)

I accept their teshuvah, their repentance. I forgive, and I join hands with all who stand with us here and with all of those around the world who commemorate this day, seared into memory.

I also pledge – and I ask others to pledge with me – to use whatever talents God has given us to bring nearer the time when the world will become the place of which the prophets dreamed, a place when all will live in peace, a place where everyone will sit under his vine and fig tree with none to make us afraid.

What a thrill it was to feel the rapt attention and field the thoughtful questions of the group I taught about Cain and Abel in Flensburg last night at the Maria Schmerzhafte Mutter (Mater Dolores) Catholic Church.

American author John Steinbeck, who won the 1962 Nobel Prize for Literature, considered Cain and Abel, “The symbol story of the human soul because it is every person’s story.” Steinbeck himself considered his most important work to be East Of Eden, an 800-page exegesis of the sixteen-sentence biblical story of Cain and Abel.

Like Cain we have all felt the sting of rejection, and like Cain we have all felt angry and jealous at another’s success especially when others judge us as falling short. 

But God insists to Cain and to us that we can rule over those feelings of anger and jealousy, and God hopes we do. The final word of Steinbeck’s novel quotes God’s hope for Cain and for us in the word: תמשל,  “You can rule” as in you can overcome the anger and jealousy that you feel.

Yes, we can, but God does not make us.

We have free will and, as painful as the consequences of that free will sometimes are, to take that capacity from humanity would rob our lives of the very meaning and purpose they are supposed to have. We are not marionettes, and God is not a puppeteer.

One of the questions people have asked me most frequently. “How could a good God allow the Holocaust?” The answer is in Cain and Abel, the third story of the very first book of the Torah.

Just as God did not stop Cain,  we should not have expected God to stop Hitler. It was up to humanity to do so. Humans, not God, are responsible for the Holocaust.

It was a privilege to teach these ideas on the eve of Kristallnacht, November 9, 1938, a night that left no doubt as to Hitler’s aim, the annihilation of the Jewish people and our religion.

Teaching Torah in Germany proves that he failed!

Kristallnacht is, of course, an occasion of great sadness. I will participate in two commemorative Kristallnacht events in Flensburg tomorrow. To me, though, teaching these vital truths to a Roman Catholic audience is the best Kristallnacht commemoration I can think of.

We cannot undo the past! But teaching and learning about one another in an atmosphere of mutual affirmation and respect is the best way I know to help shape a better future for our children, grandchildren and generations to follow.

Source: First Jewish Service in Friedrichsstadt Since 1938 (A photo essay)

I want to express deep gratitude to the Stadtarchiv Friedrichsstadt/ Museum and its Director, Christiane Thomsen for their gracious welcome.

The sign outside the old synagogue does not say that the home was used as the home for Nazi officer in 1941. What a joy not to only to reclaim it as a cultural center but as a synagogue for Jewish worship on Shabbat Eve November 6, 2015.

Poster announcing the service: Many thanks to Horst and Rita Blunk and Dr. Keren-Miriam Foerst-Haedicke for making this event possible

Scenes from the service

I am grateful to the Eternal One for granting me the privilege of leading this historic service. May Progressive Judaism in Germany continue to gain strength so that we may fulfil the promise God made to Abraham, “And all the nations of the earth will find blessing through you.” (Genesis 12:3)

Rabbi Stephen Lewis Fuchs

Shabbat Chaye Sarah 5776