





Author of "Embracing Auschwitz" and "Mensch•Marks: Life Lessons of a Human Rabbi - Wisdom for Untethered Times." Winner of the Rockower Award, the highest honor in Jewish journalism and 2019 Religion News Association Award for Excellence in Commentary. Musings of a rabbi, journalist, father, husband, poodle-owner, Red Sox fan and self-proclaimed mensch, taken from essays, columns, sermons and thin air. Writes regularly in the New York Jewish Week and Times of Israel.






NEW YORK, NEW YORK: September 16, 2020 – Gideon Taylor, President of the Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany (Claims Conference), today announced the release of the U.S. Millennial Holocaust Knowledge and Awareness Survey, the first-ever 50-state survey on Holocaust knowledge among Millennials and Gen Z. The surprising state-by-state results highlight a worrying lack of basic Holocaust knowledge, a growing problem as fewer and fewer Holocaust survivors – eyewitnesses to a state-sponsored genocide – are alive to share the lessons of the Holocaust.
Nationally, there is a clear lack of awareness of key historical facts; 63 percent of all national survey respondents do not know that six million Jews were murdered and 36 percent thought that “two million or fewer Jews” were killed during the Holocaust. Additionally, although there were more than 40,000 camps and ghettos in Europe during the Holocaust, 48 percent of national survey respondents cannot name a single one.
“The results are both shocking and saddening and they underscore why we must act now while Holocaust survivors are still with us to voice their stories,” said Gideon Taylor. “We need to understand why we aren’t doing better in educating a younger generation about the Holocaust and the lessons of the past. This needs to serve as a wake-up call to us all, and as a road map of where government officials need to act.”
The study reveals that Wisconsin scores highest in Holocaust awareness among U.S. Millennials and Gen Z. Arkansas has the lowest Holocaust knowledge score1, with less than 2-in-10 (17 percent) of Millennials and Gen Z meeting the Holocaust knowledge criteria.
We calculated our Holocaust “knowledge score” by using the percentage of Millennials and Gen Z adults who met all three of the following criteria: 1) have “Definitively heard about the Holocaust,” AND 2) can name at least one concentration camp, death camp, or ghetto, AND 3) know that 6 million Jews were killed in the Holocaust.
In what might be considered a disturbing sign of the times, 59 percent of respondents indicate that they believe something like the Holocaust could happen again.
The states with the highest Holocaust Knowledge Scores are: Wisconsin, Minnesota, Massachusetts, Maine, Kansas, Nebraska, Pennsylvania, Idaho, Iowa, and Montana.
I have a cynical friend who claims that there have been more books written about the Holocaust than there were people who perished in it. That is, no doubt, an exaggeration, but it is true that most of the books on this subject sound very much alike. Joshua Hammerman’s Embracing Auschwitz (Ben Yehuda Press) deserves our attention because it is by far the most original book on this subject that has come along in a great many years.
He tells what he learned the first time that he was on a bus with a group of teenagers on the way to the hell-on-earth that was Auschwitz. He expected them to be feeling an overwhelming sense of dread, but when he looked around, he saw that these kids were trading their school pins and their sweatshirts and displaying an astonishing amount of teenage hormones… and he realised that they were the ultimate repudiation of the Nazis’ intentions.
Right there, right on the way to the centre of the valley of the shadow of death, these kids were expressing the excitement of life, and they were thereby demonstrating that the Final Solution was not so final after all.
And it is here that Hammerman offers his boldest idea, an idea that offends us when we first hear it, an idea to which our first reaction is that this is something that goes beyond the boundary of what a Jew can say. He proposes that there are now two Torahs that we must learn how to live with: the Torah of Sinai and the Torah of Auschwitz, and that each has validity, and each has lessons to teach us.
A Torah of Auschwitz? Is that phrase not the ultimate oxymoron? Surely, we can take pride and give honour to those who wrote poetry and composed songs even in the bowels of Hell without using a phrase like this one.
Surely we can stand in awe of those who shared their scraps of food, and those who held Seders in secret, and those who escaped by crawling through sewers, and those who somehow preserved a bit of their humanity in that most inhuman of all places, without calling that world a place of Torah.
How can we talk of a Torah of Auschwitz? Is not such a phrase a desecration and a perversion of the whole Jewish tradition, which stands on the Torah of Sinai?
And yet, Hammerman declares that our perception of God, of ourselves, and of our purpose in the world will be transformed when we begin to see them through the prism of Auschwitz. The Torah of Sinai has not been abrogated, but we will understand it differently in confrontation with one that is sometimes much harsher and sometimes much gentler: the Torah of Auschwitz.
The rest of this book is a description of some of the ways in which these two Torahs differ and yet are intertwined. Hammerman tells us how he and his travelling companions found once-abandoned synagogues all over Eastern Europe now rebuilt with the names of every single person in their community who was killed by their Nazis inscribed upon their walls.
In some cemeteries, they found tombstones that had been overturned and desecrated with swastikas, but in others they saw tombstones that have been restored and repaired so that the names that are inscribed on them will not be lost.
They remembered the words of Simon Wiesenthal, who said that he envied those who were fortunate enough to have graves instead of just being thrown into rivers or into ditches. And he envied even more those that had sunflowers planted on their graves, because the sunflower is known in European folklore as the flower that remembers.
Hammerman recounts that the young people on this trip came away from this experience with the determination to be sunflowers to the next generation. He says that when you listen to a witness, you become a witness.
And so these young people resolved that when they came to Yad Vashem they would look up the names of these people in the archives, so that, when they got home, they could tell their congregations the stories of their lives, and not just their deaths.
Hammerman finishes this account of all the different collections of names that they saw wherever they went with this turnabout on one of the mitzvahs that is found in the Torah of Sinai. When they came to Berlin, they saw bricks on the sidewalks that you could stumble over, and therefore could not help but notice. These bricks are called stolpersteine, which literally means, “stumbling stones.” Each one is inscribed with the name of the person who once lived here, who was taken away to his death from here, a name that must not be forgotten.
The Torah of Sinai says that you must not put a stumbling block before the blind, for if you do, you may cause him to fall. The Torah of Auschwitz says the very opposite: that stumbling blocks make people look down and see the names of those whose names they would rather not see.
The Torah of Auschwitz says that you must put a stumbling block before those who want to pretend they are blind so that they will have to come to terms with what happened here. And then it goes one step further, saying that it is a mitzvah to put a stumbling block before those who want to pretend that they are blind to suffering – not only then and there but here and now as well.
You will not be the same after you have read this disturbing book. It will force you to see God as the One who was with us in Auschwitz, who suffers with us, and who needs us.
Brace yourself to read a book that is sometimes painful, sometimes funny, and often inspiring. Brace yourself so that you can acquire a whole new perspective on who we are and what our purpose is. Brace yourself, even though you will put this book down many times along the way and wish that it were wrong. Brace yourself because you will learn that we are all survivors and that perhaps God is too.
Rabbi Jack Riemer is the author of Finding God in Unexpected Places and The Day I Met My Father Isaac at the Supermarket.

Shabbat Shalom!
I’m the lucky one who was originally assigned the Torah portions about leprosy and infectious diseases, and then, just to make it even more challenging, was next assigned the portion about a whole bunch of curses! In all seriousness, I believe we can tie both portions together and receive some very important lessons.
I know a lot of people have suffered because of COVID-19 The Torah teaches us not everything in life is supposed to be pleasant. COVID-19 is anything BUT pleasant. Due to COVID many loved ones were taken away too early. Those who survived may still have long term symptoms. And overall, this disease has resulted in social isolation. In order to protect one another, we wear masks, which is essential, but can make it difficult to hear others or interpret their emotions correctly.
Social isolation is described in my Torah portion from late April, Tazria-Metzora. The person who has leprosy is sent to live outside the community in isolation. We too were called upon to socially isolate, which was necessary, but can have emotional drawbacks and mental health implications.
From the very beginning of Genesis, the Torah teaches it is not good for human beings to be alone. But during the height of the crisis and even now if someone is sick, there is no choice but to be alone and isolate.
So how does the Torah portion resolve this problem? When the priest hears about the situation he is instructed to go outside the camp – to go to the afflicted people and not wait for them to come to him.
Hence, the lesson learned, even when you feel alone, you are not truly alone. There can always be the support of your community and the warmth of your loved ones to be there for you. The key to healing is to help the person maintain connections with other people. The Talmud states if you visit a sick person it cures 1/60th of the illness. Even if you need to be six feet away.
This week’s Torah portion, ki tavo, is about the laws of Judaism, as well as the curses and blessings people will get if they obey or disobey. We have seen this in the past few months with coronavirus. When we disobeyed the scientists and doctors by opening up the economy too rapidly and became more lenient about social distancing, the numbers spiked. We have collectively been cursed for not doing what would have kept our community healthy and alive. . The curses have not been simple, random punishments, but direct consequences of bad choices.
Likewise, New Zealand as well as many nations in East Asia had success in dropping the COVID case numbers, because these countries listened to their government’s isolation and distancing policies. They understood wearing masks was a health and safety issue, rather than a political issue. Judaism teaches the importance of protecting our fellow people, and unfortunately in many regions in the United States, we are now suffering the consequences of not protecting one another. If we follow the best guidance, we will be delivered from the suffering.
Another way we can “reverse the curse” is by following an important law in the Torah: a ten percent tax that goes to those who may need it. We have a religious and moral obligation to use our money to help the sick and poor.
Many of the less fortunate can’t afford to pay their rent and/or if inflicted with the disease, their hospital bills can be extraordinary. To make matters worse, The government hasn't been providing adequate benefits for the unemployed and hasn’t provided enough free health care. This broken system could be helped through the mitzvah of charitable donations.
Lastly, this torah portion teaches us forgiveness, with the optimism wrong-doers can learn from their mistakes, but only after being accepted back into society. When individuals do actions they realize now were wrong and can sincerely apologize, we are expected to pardon them. When we hold grudges, we often end up in conflict, and all sides get hurt. Tying this back to the beginning of my speech, we are to forgive those who did not originally wear a mask or take the virus seriously. If we forgive, one is more likely to obey the rules and wear a mask, rather than rebel. I have found from personal experience forgiving others ends conflict between the two parties involved, and heals any inner turmoil as well.
For my mitzvah project, I’m donating books to Fairfield County Children’s shelters. I love to read, and would love to encourage others to read as well – especially since books can be pretty good companions when one feels isolated. Those kids who receive the books will know someone cared about them.
| ו וְיָדַעְתָּ, כִּי לֹא בְצִדְקָתְךָ יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לְךָ אֶת-הָאָרֶץ הַטּוֹבָה הַזֹּאת--לְרִשְׁתָּהּ: כִּי עַם-קְשֵׁה-עֹרֶף, אָתָּה. | Deut 9:6 Know therefore that it is not for thy righteousness that the LORD thy God giveth thee this good land to possess it; for thou art a stiff-necked people. |

