Sermon 8.18.06 - Parshat Re'eh: Itamar Walks on Walls

In Itamar’s room, there are three beautiful, colorful pictures hanging on the wall. The first picture is of a long train, with a green steam engine, with people and animals poking their faces out. The second picture is of a girl flying a big red kite in the sky. Itamar and his father always say that the girl’s name is Rutzki-Putzki. That’s what they decided to name her.
The third picture is of a forest. In the forest live two big lions, Daddy-Lion and Mommy-Lioness, but there is no Baby-Lion, and maybe that’s why the lions look a little sad…At night, after Itamar has his hot chocolate and listens to his story, asks to go potty one more time, asks for his night light, asks for his teddy bear and his monkey, and after his parents start to get mad at him for pestering, Itamar quiets down. Then, slowly, and without making a sound, he starts walking on the wall.
No one in the world knows that Itamar knows how to walk on walls. Only the teddy bear and the monkey know: Itamar walks slowly on the wall until he arrives at the picture of the forest. He climbs over the frame, and into the picture.

So reads Itamar metayel al kirot, or, Itamar walks on the walls. The story tells of Itamar, a precocious young boy who at night walks the walls of his room and enters the various pictures hung above him. This classic Israeli children’s story was written by David Grossman who based the Itamar character on his second child, Uri. As we Americans view Max from Where the Wild Things Are as a symbol of our own childhood, many Israelis see theirs through Grossman’s work. Over time, Itamar has become a part of Israel’s national family.
I read this story to you now as Uri Grossman, the inspiration for the character of Itamar, was killed in Lebanon last weekend. In an article entitled, “Itamar will no longer walk on walls”, it was reported that Uri died after a missile hit is tank in southern Lebanon. Only two days earlier, his father along with other prominent authors AB Yehoshua and Amos Oz called for the implementation of a cease fire agreement. We are now on the 4th day of that tenuous agreement, and while we exhale with relief at the cessation of hostilities, we solemnly remember Uri and the other 116 Israeli soldiers and countless civilians on both sides of the border who lost their lives over the past four weeks. Uri would have been 21 years old in another 9 days. He was to be released (from the army) in November, and planned to travel the world and then study theater.
Here in the US the modern media is only beginning to digest the full consequences of the conflict. And already the finger-pointing and pontificating have begun. Did Israel overreact by attacking Lebanon after the ambush in the North? Should the IDF have gone in sooner and with greater force? Should Prime Minister Ehud Olmert or Defense Secretary Amir Peretz be forced to resign? Lost in the political wrangling is the story of young men and women, exhausted yet thankfully returning to their homes in Israel. And there are those like Uri Grossman who did not make it back.
It is easy for us here in the US to analyze the conflict from afar. Most people in my generation have never served in the army, and don’t expect our children to either. Few of us have family or friends serving in Iraq. But this is not the case in Israel, where everyone knows someone who has died fighting for their country. And this changes one’s perspective on war significantly. As one Israeli father of an soldier told CBS News, “You want the war to keep going on so long as it involved other peoples’ children. But when its your own child, you want it to end as soon as possible.” Or as a mother of a soldier told USA Today, “The loss of soldiers hurts so much, because we Israelis largely see them as kids — everyone's kids. They're serving us, and the tragedy is that they usually haven't had a chance yet to do anything in life except for that.” And so the Israeli public, which overwhelmingly supported the operation against Hizbollah must now mourn the loss of their collective child, all of their Itamars, who will no longer walk on walls.
In this week’s torah portion, Re’eh, Moses instructs the people on many mitzvoth and obligations before entering the land of Israel. This parsha gives us many well known mitzvoth, such as the prohibition against eating milk and meat or the observance of the major Jewish holidays. But lost in the shuffle there is also a small piece of advice that we could all heed now in this time of unsteady peace.
When God warns the people Israel of the danger of following other Gods, God says, “You shall not worship other gods than Hashem, your God, for everything that is an abomination of Hashem, that God hates, do they do to their gods. For even their sons and their daughters have they burned in the fire for their gods.” (Deut 12:31)
In the case of Hizbullah and Hamas, clearly each group has shown a willingness to burn their sons and daughters in support of their God. In fact, Hizbullah leader Hassan Nasrallah commented on the death of his 18 year old Hadi, killed in a clash with the IDF in 1997, saying, "We, in the leadership of Hizbullah, do not spare our children and save them for the future," he told the crowd. "We pride ourselves when our sons reach the front line. And stand, heads high, when they fall [as] martyrs." (Newsweek, Aug 28, 2006) As Golda Meir once famously said, “We will have peace with the Arabs when they learn to love their children more than they hate us.” Perhaps the most tragic aspect of this conflict, then, is that in our own self defense, we have learned to do the same. Israel has no choice but to enlist their Itamars into the army, and have them enter the battlefield from which they may never return. Such is the reality of the situation.
We Jews have our own history of sacrificing our children. In a few short weeks, we will return here to celebrate Rosh Hashanah and read the story of the binding of Isaac. We remember that our patriarch Abraham was willing to sacrifice his one and only son Abraham in order to demonstrate his faith and obedience to God. Personally, I’ve always had a really hard time with this torah portion. How can the same God who forbids us from sacrificing our children in this week’s portion, ask Abraham for his only son? How can I believe in a God who would want such a thing?
Rather than answer this myself, I’d like to share the answer in the form of a modern interpretation written by a Christian feminist theologian by the name of Daphne Hampson. Ms. Hampson’s rendering of the binding of Isaac has much wisdom to offer us in our present situation. She writes,

And with heavy heart Abraham went to his wife Sarah and said, G-d has told me to take our son Isaac, whom we love, and sacrifice him as a burnt offering. And Sarah said, a shrewd move. This G-d is no fool. This is Her way of testing you. What did you say to Her? And Abraham replied, I said nothing. I want G-d to know I will obey Him without a question. I will do as He commands.
And Sarah threw up her hands in despair and said, Abraham you are a bone-headed fool. What kind of a G-d do you think you are dealing with? What kind of a G-d would want you to kill your own son to prove how religious you are? Don’t be so stupid! She’s trying to teach you something: that you must challenge even the highest authority on questions of right and wrong. Argue with Her, wrestle with Her! But Sarah’s words smacked to Abraham of blasphemy, and he went into the mountains with his son Isaac.
And Sarah said to G-d, Sister, you are playing with fire. He is too stupid to understand what you are up to. He won’t listen to me and he won’t challenge you; if you don’t stop him, he will kill our precious son. Is that what you want? And G-d said, Sarah, they have a long journey to the mountains; I’m hoping one of them will see sense. And Sarah said, Like father like son. You will have to send an angel.
And it came to pass as Sarah foretold, and the angel of the Lord spoke to Abraham the first time and told him not to kill his son. And Abraham sacrificed a ram as a burnt offering. And the angel of the Lord spoke to Abraham a second time and told him his offspring would be as numerous as stars in the heaven and would possess the gates of their enemies.
And the angel of the Lord spoke to Abraham a third time and said, because you were ready to kill your own son in the name of your G-d, you will be known as a great patriarch and millions will follow your example. And they will believe that He is indeed a jealous and a demanding G-d, and they will willingly sacrifice their sons in His name and to His glory. And there will be bloodshed and slaughter in all the corners of the earth.
And Abraham returned to his wife Sarah and said, G-d is well pleased with me for I am to be a mighty patriarch. And Sarah said nothing. But she took the garments of Abraham and Isaac that were stained with the blood of the ram, and she carried them, to the river to be washed. And the river ran red with the blood of generations to come, and Sarah wept bitterly.
And G-d came to Sarah at the water’s edge and said, My sister Sarah, do not weep. You were right, it will take time. Meanwhile, hold firm to what you know of me and speak it boldly. I am as you know me to be. Many generations will pass and a new understanding will come to the children of Abraham, but before then I shall be misheard and misrepresented except by a few. You must keep my truth alive.
And Sarah dried her eyes and said, As if I didn’t have enough to do.

And so today we join our matriarch Sarah and David Grossman in keeping God’s truth alive. We look forward to a day when we all agree that the opportunities of a child’s life offer more to us than their sacrifice on the battlefield. This is the hope which we must protect; to guard the Itamar in all of us who simply want to live in peace, and once in awhile maybe take a stroll on the walls. At the end of the book, Itamar finds a lost lion cub in a picture of a locomotive train. Using a kite propelled by the characters on his walls, Itamar brings the cub back to his family. The book reads,

Then, Itamar flew the kite with the little lion towards the picture of the forest. A moment
later the kite arrived at the painted date tree and landed, and the little lion got off and
hugged and kissed his Daddy and Mommy!
“Why did you go on the train?” Mommy asked the little lion.
“Because it had a green steam engine,” explained the little lion.
“Never leave home without permission,” said Daddy-Lion.
“I’m actually tired of riding the train,” said the little lion.
Itamar returned the kite to Shulamit, and thanked her.
“You’re nice,” said Shulamit. “You can come over whenever you’d like, and we’ll fly the
kite together.”
“Good,” said Itamar. He left the picture of Shulamit and the kite, and kept walking back
on the wall until he came down to his bed. He lay down, very tired.
But before he fell asleep, he opened his eyes for a moment and saw Daddy-Lion and
Mommy-Lioness tucking in their cub, and the three of them were very very happy.
So may it be God’s will and so should we all strive for the day when the Itamars and lion cubs of the world return to their families safe and sound, and dream not of katusha rockets or tanks or missiles, but all the future has in store for them. Ken yihiyeh ratzon.