When he was just 23 years old, Alexander Pope wrote a poem called An Essay on Criticism. Even though Pope is not widely read today, some of the lines of this poem have become an essential part of our language and wisdom. In it you will find the lines ‘fools rush in where angels fear to tread’ and two other phrases which have become part of our proverbial lexicon – “a little learning is a dangerous thing” and “to err is human; to forgive, divine.” I thought of these three phrases when witnessing the confronting banner with its enormous crude sign “Sanction Israel” stretched out across the entrance of Sydney’s oldest synagogue, the Great Synagogue.
The Great Synagogue, or The Great as it is affectionately known, is one of the most elegant and visible Jewish buildings in Australia and has stood proudly in central Sydney facing Hyde Park since 1878. Its website proudly acknowledges: “Our Synagogue stands on the traditional lands of the Gadigal People of the Eora Nation. We acknowledge and give thanks to the Elders and Traditional Custodians who have cared for this land for thousands of years. May we walk with care on this land which has provided a home for our Jewish Community. We offer respect to the descendants of the first peoples whose presence and cultures are vital to the nation we share.”
This is a statement about the recognition and respect for the sacredness of place. Over the years Australia has become better at appreciating the sacredness of space and how certain landmarks and places are saturated with meaning and spirituality for our first peoples. The idea of the sanctity of space is probably as old as the human race and anywhere you travel you can find locations that are deeply imbued with significance for those who lived, prayed and sought transcendence there. In the Bible, early in the Book of Genesis, Jacob dreams his most magnificent dream of a ladder reaching to heaven populated by busy angels ascending and descending it. When he wakes from his dream, he cries the evocative words: “how awesome is this place! It is surely nothing other than the abode of God and the gateway to heaven itself” (Genesis 28,17)
The recognition and holiness of place is something surely shared by people of good faith and thoughtfulness regardless of their religious affiliation. And only fools would rush in unthinkingly to affront the sensibilities of their fellow citizens, but this is precisely what was done in Sydney in the act of vituperative vandalism last Sunday. It was an act of foolishness and an affront to any person who regards places of worship with reverence and to anyone who respects history and culture, regardless of their own culture or connection to religion. Targeting a place of worship with a political slogan is a cheap reflection of the otiose and the meagre of spirits.
In this case it is also a sad reflection on those who are driven by self-righteousness and ignorance, the ignorance of a little learning and little understanding of the centrality of Israel to Jewish history and Jewish consciousness and, yes, to Jewish prayer. For centuries Jews have said in their daily prayers “let our eyes turn to the return of Zion in compassion.” The banner is also a sign of the superficiality of its writers and their inability to recognise the complexity of the ongoing war.
The problem, of course, as Pope predicted, is that a little learning is not only fatuous but also dangerous. It can lead to acts of violence and barbarism. The attack on the Great Synagogue, a centre of religion and worship, under the cover of supposed anti-Israelism is nothing but a blunt and crude act of antisemitism in that it demonises all Jews. And the failure of religious leaders, politicians, and all people of good conscience to loudly condemn this desecration is dangerous, because it may begin with the Jews, but it won’t end with them. To echo Pastor Niemoller’s famous words:
“In Germany they came first for the Communists,
and I didn’t speak up
because I wasn’t a Communist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak up
because I wasn’t a Jew.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak up
because I wasn’t a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn’t speak up
because I was a Protestant.
Then they came for me,
and by that time no one was left
to speak up for me.”
In our public discourse in Australia, we need to engage in a serious dialogue around our differences and with a recognition of how easy it is to err and how hard it is to forgive our opponents.
Rabbi Ralph
