A Massacre In Sydney
The horrible images of another mass tragedy that targeted Jews shakes our souls and lacerates our hearts. As word came in from Sydney, Australia of a Chanukah event demolished by a terrorist attack, our complacency is again disrupted with shock, tears, and gasping: an avalanche of emotions and thoughts that are a part of trauma. No one wants to believe that this is true, and no one wants to accept that there are fatalities, even that word is a weak euphemism for murder and slaughter, and none of us feels the power to do anything to stop these increasing acts of hatred against our people.
I was alerted very early Sunday morning about the massacre and spoke with authorities in Sydney. The explanation du jour is that, “We like the Jews, but do not like Israel.” There are weekly “protest” marches and demonstrations in Australia with chants like “death, death to the IDF,” but the police “did not expect there to be violence.” In reality, there are no “random acts of violence,” which is just another media-induced euphemism for attacks which no one attempts to prevent. Every assault, regardless of who is targeted and what means are used is truly a planned and plotted attack. Any attempt to frame, justify, or rationalize it is a means of abetting the violence. The Sydney massacre in Bondi Beach has left holy Jews dead, many others gravely injured, and has upended the illusion of our being safe and feeling protected.
Our department provided video and printed guidelines for speaking with family members, for monitoring one’s own reactions, and for encouraging those who continue the work of Chabad in locations throughout the world, yet who are on alert and worried, as are most of us. (Anyone who is interested in seeking those guidelines can email me.) Many are seeking a perspective, a tool for framing in their minds some means of integrating the facts and their fallout. It is difficult to internalize the shock and horror without becoming agitated and scared. Trying to manage that fear prompts some to look for perspective, which is actually an intellectual move to pump comprehension into consciousness, as if this will displace and negate the uneasy emotions. Some of us become spiritual, wondering what Hashem wants and what He is telling us. After tragedy, it is common to peek into the mist and try to find meaningful messages.
In the Chanukah saga, Jewish people were facing similar challenges. Suffering from efforts to destroy them, they felt outnumbered at all ends as erstwhile friends and fellow citizens turned against them and initiated an assault on mind and soul, and then on the very existence of the Jewish populace. We fought back, we prayed, and we stood our ground. There were subtle miracles. There were mysterious events which also seemed miraculous. When the bloodshed and the incursions came to a pause, our Sages say that it took time before the Jewish leaders were able to form perspective. The product of their perspective-taking is our Chanukah practices: prayers, psalms, songs, and lighting the menorah. Perspective taking, even by our great Sages, took time. Hashem’s plan is never obvious to us. We too must wait and ponder before determining the intended message here.
While we wait, or while we work on this, our only spiritual move is to turn to Heaven in prayer and pleading, and our only mundane task is to stay close and connected to each other. The Jewish people are compared to the stars of the heavens. When we stay apart, each one of us can glisten and shine but provides little light to the dark sky, but when we bond together, we become the stars of Heaven. Our collective light can bring back brightness. n
Rabbi Dr. Dovid Fox is a forensic and clinical psychologist, and director of Chai Lifeline Crisis Services. To contact Chai Lifeline’s 24-hour crisis helpline, call 855-3-CRISIS or email [email protected]. Learn more at Chailifeline.org/crisis.
