Daily prayer in Lent with early English saints: 40, 24 March 2024, Saint Edmund Rich of Abingdon

A sculpture by Rodney Munday at St Edmund Hall, Oxford, shows Saint Edmund Rich as an impoverished student (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Patrick Comerford

We are beginning the last week of Lent, Holy Week, today on Palm Sunday, the Sixth Sunday in Lent (24 March 2024). The Orthodox Calendar is slightly different, and today is the first Sunday of Great Lent. It is called the Sunday of Orthodoxy and commemorates the restoration of the Holy Icons and the triumph of the Orthodox Faith against the heresy of the iconoclasts.

In the Jewish calendar, the festival of Purim began last night (23 March) and continues until this evening (24 March).

Throughout Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on the lives of early, pre-Reformation English saints commemorated in Common Worship.

Later this morning, I hope to take part in the Palm Sunday liturgy in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, reading the part of the Narrator in the Passion Gospel. But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, A reflection on an early, pre-Reformation English saint;

2, today’s Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary.

The dying words of Saint Edmund of Abingdon are inscribed on the well in the Front Quad in St Edmund Hall, Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Early English pre-Reformation saints: 40, Saint Edmund Rich of Abingdon

Saint Edmund Rich of Abingdon is remembered in Common Worship on 16 November. He was born ca 1175 in Abingdon, once the country town of Berkshire but now part of Oxfordshire. His father was a merchant whose wealth probably led to Edmund being later surnamed ‘Rich’, and who himself became a monk later in life.

Edmund was educated at Oxford and in Paris. He is said to have been the first person to teach Aristotle in Oxford. After also teaching in both Oxford and Paris, he became Treasurer of Salisbury Cathedral in 1222 and was eventually made Archbishop of Canterbury in 1233.

He was a reforming bishop and, as well as bringing gifts of administration to his task, appointed clergy of outstanding talent to senior positions in the Church. He also acted as peacemaker between the king and his barons, many believing that his actions averted civil war. He died in Pontigny, France, on 16 November 1240, on a journey to Rome. He was canonised in 1247.

Saint Edmund gives his name to St Edmund Hall in Oxford. There, the mediaeval well in the centre of the front quad is believed to be the original well from which Saint Edmund drew water. The Latin inscription, haurietis aquas in gaudio de fontibus salvatoris, ‘with joy, draw water from the wells of salvation’ (Isaiah 12: 3), is said to be the last words by Saint Edmund on his deathbed.

St Edmund Hall, Oxford, takes its name from Saint Edmund of Abingdon, the first Oxford-educated Archbishop of Canterbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Mark 11: 1-1 (NRSVA):

1 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, “Why are you doing this?” just say this, “The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately”.’ 4 They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, ‘What are you doing, untying the colt?’ 6 They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. 7 Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

‘Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!’

11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.

The dying words of Saint Edmund of Abingdon are inscribed on the well in the Front Quad in St Edmund Hall (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Today’s Prayers (Sunday 24 March 2024, Palm Sunday):

The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Holy Week Reflection.’ This theme is introduced today by the Revd Canon Dr Peniel Rajkumar, Theologian and Director of Global Mission, USPG:

‘Holy Week is, for many, a time of spiritual pilgrimage. It is an opportunity to follow Jesus on his journey towards the Cross, from which flows possibilities for the fullness and wholeness of all life.

‘At the heart of Holy Week is the theme of solidarity. Jesus’s solidarity is a YES to self-identification with all those pushed to the margins of society by the powerful, and a NO to the powers of the world.

‘The NO to the powers of the world comes out clearly on Maundy Thursday, where according to John, Jesus knowing fully well that God “had given all things into His hands” takes the form of a slave and washes His disciples’ feet. Jesus replaces the love of power with the power of love – teaching the powerful a lesson in giving up power.

‘The YES to Jesus’s self-identification with the marginalised comes on Good Friday in the way Jesus suffers “outside the city gate” (Hebrews 13: 12) in solidarity with the many outcasts, who have been made scapegoats of unjust systems.

‘It is in this solidarity – resisting the patterns and powers of this world, and embracing the broken and the broken hearted into His own bruised body – that Jesus the crucified Christ opens up possibilities for healing and hope.

‘During Holy Week, as we focus on the Cross, we are reminded that our resources for hope are often found in places where we least expect it – even on the Cross.’

The USPG Prayer Diary today (24 March 2024, Palm Sunday) invites us to pray in these words:

Christ in our darkness risen,
help all who long for light
to hold the hand of promise
till faith receives its light.
(Brian Wren, b. 1936).

St Edmund Hall library is housed the 12th-century former Church of Saint Peter-in-the-East … the Lady Chapel is said to have been donated by Saint Edmund of Abingdon while he was a lecturer in Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

The Collect:

Almighty and everlasting God,
who in your tender love towards the human race
sent your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ
to take upon him our flesh
and to suffer death upon the cross:
grant that we may follow the example of his patience and humility,
and also be made partakers of his resurrection;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you humbled yourself in taking the form of a servant,
and in obedience died on the cross for our salvation:
give us the mind to follow you
and to proclaim you as Lord and King,
to the glory of God the Father.

Additional Collect:

True and humble king,
hailed by the crowd as Messiah:
grant us the faith to know you and love you,
that we may be found beside you
on the way of the cross,
which is the path of glory.

Yesterday: Saint Hugh of Lincoln

Tomorrow: Saint Richard of Chichester

The arms of the Archbishop of Canterbury displayed in the front quad at St Edmund Hall (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday … an icon by Theodoros Papadopoulos of Larissa

Purim recalls near-annihilation and is a chilling warning about antisemitism and vengeance

A Megillath Ester or Scroll of Esther in the Monastir Synagogue in Thessaloniki (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

The Jewish holiday of Purim begins at sunset this evening (23 February 2024) and ends at sunset tomorrow (24 March 2024). Purim literally means ‘lots’ and is sometimes known as the Feast of Lots. This holiday commemorates the Jews being saved from persecution in the ancient Persian Empire, but also remembers the hatred and violence involved.

According to the Book of Esther, the Jewish people in Shushan were threatened by the chief minister Haman, who convinces King Ahasuerus or Xerxes to kill all Jews, because Mordecai, a Jew, had refused to bow down to Haman.

Haman casts lots to decide the date for his plan – the 13th day of Adar. But the Jews are saved by Mordecai’s niece and adopted daughter, the heroic Queen Esther. She married Ahasuerus after he banished Vashti, his first, rebellious wife. When Ahasuerus discovers that Esther is Jewish, he reverses Haman’s decree, and instead of the Jews being killed, Haman, his sons, and thousands of other Persians are killed.

Before reading the Megillah, the person who is to read says the following three blessings:

‘Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has made us holy through his commandments, and has commanded us about reading the Megillah.

‘Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who performed miracles for our ancestors in those days at this time.

‘Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has given us life, sustained us, and brought us to this time.’

As the story of Purim is read from Megillat Esther (מגילת אסתר, ‘The Scroll of Esther’), it is a custom for everyone to boo and hiss or to make a loud noise with a rattle, known as a ra’ashan (Hebrew) or grager (Yiddish), every time Haman’s name is repeated. The custom fulfils the obligation to blot out Haman’s name.

It is a mitzvah that Jewish people should eat, drink and be merry at Purim. According to the Talmud, a person is required to drink until they cannot tell the difference between ‘Cursed be Haman’ and ‘Blessed be Mordecai’ … although opinions differ as to exactly how drunk that is.

As the story of Esther is read, synagogues are crowded, the adults wearing their best Sabbath clothes, and the children, and some adults too, dressed up in colourful costumes, funny beards and playful masks. They are entertaining and rowdy occasions on Purim.

Children in particular enjoy dressing up as the characters in the Book of Esther, including King Xerxes, the banished queen Vashti, Queen Esther, her cousin Mordecai and the evil, scheming Haman. In some communities, they still burn an effigy of Haman. So for Jewish communities, Purim is like Hallowe’en, Carnival, Mardi Gras and Guy Fawkes Night … all rolled into one, and usually focussed on children.

Many celebrations of Purim this year have been toned down and muted following the attacks in Israel on the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah over five months ago (7 October 2023), the continuing hostage crisis in Israel and Gaza, and the dreadful violence that has continued in Gaza, Israel and on the West Bank.

Many Jewish communities are reluctant to celebrate openly given these circumstances, and are equally reluctant to be seen to celebrate given the rise of public and naked antisemitism, typified by the attack on a house in Hackney earlier this week.

Plans for the first carnival-style Purim parade in Jerusalem in 42 years were modified and altered this week after an outcry from residents, relatives of hostages held in Gaza and others directly affected by the events of 7 October and the war in Gaza war.

Tel Aviv and other cities in Israel have cancelled their popular parades this year out of deference to the families of hostages, evacuees, bereaved families, parents of combat soldiers and a melancholic national mood throughout Israel.

A Megillath Ester or Scroll of Esther in the Jewish Museum in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Purim and Hanukkah are the two Jewish festivals that are not prescribed in Mosaic law. Yet, the story of Xerxes and Esther, Mordecai and Haman, is relevant not only for Jews today. It is also a reminder that there are always people who plan and plot evil on a grand scale, happy to wallow in the misery and deaths of millions, men, women and children.

At first, the story of Purim might appear sombre with its recollection of the near-annihilation. But it is also a story of bravery, courage and salvation, and it is a reminder that antisemitism has deep roots that long predate contemporary experiences.

Esther is a secret Jew, and her story encouraged secret Jews during the Inquisition in Spain and Portugal, when Saint Esther emerged as a popular figure among the conversos. Many proclaimed their hidden identity to one another by having domestic shrines to Saint Esther … an insider symbol of resistance to prejudice and persecution.

Later, the story of Purim was an abiding comfort and encouragement to European Jews in the mid-20th century.

On Esther’s request, Purim ‘should be remembered and kept throughout every generation, in every family, province, and city, and these days of Purim should never fall into disuse among the Jews, nor should the commemoration of these days cease among their descendants’ (Esther 9: 28).

It is not just a story of courage and action in the face of adversity and the triumph of good over evil; it is not only a holiday and a celebration. Purim is also a startling reminder of how easy it is to turn to feel justified in turning to vengeance, and a chilling warning to future generations that antisemitism will continue to haunt Jews people throughout time.

Esther is a rare biblical text not only because it does not mention God even once – it is a story driven by human agency. It is also unique because it is set in the Diaspora – the events take place in Persia. And it is unusual because a woman becomes the saviour of an oppressed minority, able to summon the courage to move from powerlessness to power.

Since Hamas launched its horrific massacre and hostage-taking on 7 October and Israel retaliated in a brutal, ongoing war, the story of Esther is being read by many as an agonising and troubling story in ways that it has never been read before. For many Jewish people reading the story of Esther this weekend, Haman, Hitler and Hamas are ‘all creepily entwined’, as one commentator has written.

But there is also a disturbing dimension to the story of Esther when it comes to the revenge and vengeance. Not only was Haman executed, but at the request of Esther and with the acquiescence of the king, so were his 10 sons and 500 people in the citadel.

Then Chapter 9 gives the details of a violent episode of state-sanctioned retaliation, when another 75,000 Persian ‘enemies,’ including women and children, were murdered, followed by ‘a day of feasting and gladness’ and rejoiced afterward (Esther 9: 16, 22). The story says that many Persians were so fearful of the newly militarised Jews that they professed to be Jews, too.

For centuries, rabbis and scholars have tried to question or justify this problematic spasm of violence: maybe the death toll was not 75,000; maybe women and children were not killed – even though that was explicitly permitted; maybe all this was necessary self-defence.

However, many scholars today find these rationalisations unsatisfying. Writing in the Los Angeles Times earlier this week (21 March), the Jewish writer Jane Eisner suggests that perhaps Esther 9 may be a warning of the extremes a formerly oppressed people will go to when given a opportunity to exercise political and military might and to retaliate. She says it uncomfortably echoes the Israeli assault on Gaza today, with entire families obliterated, hunger and displacement rampant, thousands of children killed and orphaned, and cities all but destroyed.

Jane Eisner is the former editor in chief of the Forward, a national Jewish news outlet. She asks searching questions this Purim:

Does one trauma justify another?

When does self-defence bleed into revenge?

How is proportionality weighed during what is today an existential crisis for Israelis and Palestinians?

The vengeance sought at Purim is committed by humans and not in God’s name. Jane Eisner says Esther 9 ‘gives voice to a malevolence in the Jewish tradition that makes me wince, spotlighting an unfortunate feature of human behaviour, inviting us even today to beseech God to pursue and destroy our enemies.’

On the other hand, the story of Esther recognise the pain and destruction visited upon enemies and becomes an important and instructive reminder of the need to temper any sense of vindication, a reminder of the need to move from vengeance to empathy.

During my return visits over the past year or two to Prague, the ghetto in Venice and the Marais in Paris, I was reminded that while Haman and Hitler planned and plotted on a grand scale, there are always people who plot and plan evil and the destruction of innocence on varying scales of intensity and application.

We would be naïve to ever underestimate the capacity of people to do evil, nor should we ever undervalue the importance of our contribution to protecting the vulnerable, the frightened and the victimised in our society today.

When we realise that we have been saved from disasters or from our enemies, when sorrow has been turned into gladness and mourning into a holiday, we should not only feast and celebrate among ourselves but also mark these as ‘days for sending gifts of food to one another and presents to the poor’ (Esther 9: 22), and remember all who suffer the consequences.

Megillat Ester or Scroll of Esther, silver with coloured stones and gilded, dated Vienna 1844, in the Jewish Museum, Vienna (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Daily prayer in Lent with early English saints: 39, 23 March 2024, Saint Hugh of Lincoln

Saint Hugh of Lincoln depicted in a statue at Saint Mary Magdalen Church, Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

We are approaching the last week of Lent, and tomorrow is Palm Sunday, the Sixth Sunday in Lent (24 March 2024). In the Jewish calendar, the festival of Purim begins this evening (23 March) and continues until tomorrow evening (24 March).

Throughout Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on the lives of early, pre-Reformation English saints commemorated in Common Worship.

Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, A reflection on an early, pre-Reformation English saint;

2, today’s Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary.

Saint Hugh of Lincoln (left) and Saint Frideswide of Oxford depicted in a window in Saint Mary’s Church, Shenley Church End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Early English pre-Reformation saints: 39, Saint Hugh of Lincoln

Saint Hugh of Lincoln is remembered in Common Worship on 17 November.

Hugh was born at Avalon in Burgundy in 1140 and at first made his profession with the Augustinian canons but, when he was 25, he became a monk at the Carthusian Grande Chartreuse. In about 1175, he was invited by the King Henry II, to become prior of his Charterhouse foundation at Witham in Somerset, badly in need of reform even though it had been only recently founded.

In 1186, Hugh was persuaded to accept the See of Lincoln, then the largest diocese in England. He brought huge energy to the diocese and, together with discerning appointments to key posts, he revived the schools in Lincoln, repaired and enlarged the cathedral, visited the See extensively, drew together the clergy to meet in synod and generally brought an efficiency and stability to the Church.

Hugh also showed great compassion for the poor and the oppressed, ensuring that sufferers of leprosy were cared for and that Jews were not persecuted. He both supported his monarch yet also held out against any royal measures he felt to be extreme, while managing not to make an enemy of the king. He died in London on 17 November 1200.

Saint Hugh of Lincoln (right) and King Edward the Confessor in the Cooper Window in Saint Peter’s Church, Berkhamsted (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

John 11: 45-57 (NRSVA):

45 Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. 46 But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done. 47 So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, ‘What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. 48 If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.’ 49 But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, ‘You know nothing at all! 50 You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.’ 51 He did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation, 52 and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. 53 So from that day on they planned to put him to death.

54 Jesus therefore no longer walked about openly among the Jews, but went from there to a town called Ephraim in the region near the wilderness; and he remained there with the disciples.

55 Now the Passover of the Jews was near, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. 56 They were looking for Jesus and were asking one another as they stood in the temple, ‘What do you think? Surely he will not come to the festival, will he?’ 57 Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that anyone who knew where Jesus was should let them know, so that they might arrest him.

The pet swan of Saint Hugh of Lincoln is an amusing detail in the Cooper Window in Saint Peter’s Church, Berkhamsted (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Today’s Prayers (Saturday 23 March 2024):

The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), has been ‘Lent Reflection: True repentance is the key to Christian Freedom.’ This theme was introduced on Sunday by the Revd Dr Simon Ro, Dean of Graduate School of Theology at Sungkonghoe (Anglican) University, Seoul, Korea.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (23 March 2024) invites us to pray in these words:

We pray Lord for the work and mission of the Anglican Church of Korea. We pray too for the Graduate School of Theology at Sungkonghoe – may they continue to nurture and teach theology for all those seeking to learn.

The Collect:

Most merciful God,
who by the death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ
delivered and saved the world:
grant that by faith in him who suffered on the cross
we may triumph in the power of his victory;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you have taught us
that what we do for the least of our brothers and sisters
we do also for you:
give us the will to be the servant of others
as you were the servant of all,
and gave up your life and died for us,
but are alive and reign, now and for ever.

Additional Collect:

Gracious Father,
you gave up your Son
out of love for the world:
lead us to ponder the mysteries of his passion,
that we may know eternal peace
through the shedding of our Saviour’s blood,
Jesus Christ our Lord.

Collect on the Eve of Palm Sunday:

Almighty and everlasting God,
who in your tender love towards the human race
sent your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ
to take upon him our flesh
and to suffer death upon the cross:
grant that we may follow the example of his patience and humility,
and also be made partakers of his resurrection;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Yesterday: Saint Gilbert of Sempringham

Tomorrow: Saint Edmund Rich of Abingdon

The Christ the King or Cooper Window in Saint Peter’s Church, Berkhamsted, with Saint Hugh of Lincoln in the bottom left corner (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The Hambro’ Synagogue, rival London synagogues and two rival chief rabbis

The Hambro’ Synagogue was in Church Passage, a narrow passage close to Fenchurch Street railway station, from 1707 to 1893 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Patrick Comerford

Purim this year begins this evening (6 March 2023) and ends tomorrow evening (7 March 2023). Purim recalls the story of Esther and the near-destruction of the Jewish people during the reign King Ahasuerus of Persia. The hero of the piece is Haman the a courtier, and the heroes in the story are Mordecai and his orphaned cousin, Queen Esther.

As Purim begins, I thought it interesting to tell the story of another Mordecai – Marcus or Mordecai Moses, also known as Marcus Hamburger – and the story of rivalries within the Jewish community in London 300 years ago, involving rival synagogues and rival chief rabbis, a story that revolves the foundation of the Hambro’ synagogue in the early 18th century.

During my recent walks around the East End, In recent postings, I have described my walks around the East End and my visits to a number of synagogues and former synagogues, including the Spital Square Poltava Synagogue at 2 Heneage Street, the former Artillery Lane Synagogue, near Liverpool Street Station, the former Gun Street Synagogue, near Spitalfields, the East London Central Synagogue, also known as Nelson Street Synagogue, and the many synagogues on Hanbury Street, off Brick Lane.

The Hambro’ Synagogue was one of the first three Ashkenazi synagogues founded in London following the readmission of the Jews to England in 1656, and it served a growing community of central and eastern European Jews. It was one of the founding synagogues of the United Synagogue, which is still the largest British Jewish religious movement.

The Hambro’ Synagogue was a breakaway from the Great Synagogue, and was founded by a wealthy gem dealer, Marcus (or Mordecai) Moses, also known as Marcus Hamburger.

Marcus Moses wished to establish a small house of study and prayer (a beth hamedrash) in a house in Saint Mary Axe. The move was bitterly opposed by the Great Synagogue, and with the support of the Bevis Marks Synagogue, the Great Synagogue obtained an injunction from the Court of the Aldermen of the City of London against the erection of an alternative place of worship.

A dispute later developed regarding a divorce, in which Marcus Moses publicly criticised the Jewish authorities. This lead to his excommunication by the then Chief Rabbi of the Great Synagogue.

Marcus Moses established a congregation that met in his home in Magpie Alley – also known as Church Row or Church Passage – off Fenchurch Street in 1707. This was the first attempt at an independent synagogue in London. His family tutor from Hamburg, Jochanan Höllischau, was engaged as its rabbi and he set aside the decree of excommunication. At the same time, the congregation acquired a separate burial ground in Hoxton.

The authorities in the Sephardic and Ashkenazic communities combined to obtain an injunction against a place of public Jewish worship opening in Saint Mary Axe, so near to both Duke’s Place and Bevis Marks. But for about 20 years, the congregation continued to meet at the home of Marcus Moses.

Defying the injunction and against the objections of other synagogues, Marcus Moses built a regular synagogue in the garden beside his house in Magpie Alley in 1725. The foundation stone had the Hebrew date as 3 Sivan 5485 (15 May 1725). It was laid by Rabbi Zeeb Wolf, son of Isaac Bimas of Bomsal, Prague, who became known as Wolf Prager.

This synagogue continued until 1893 at Magpie Alley, later Church Passage, Fenchurch Street. Because the new synagogue at first conformed to the Hamburg minhag or customs, it became known as ‘The Hambro’.’ It was also known, at different times as ‘Mordecai Hamburger’s Synagogue,’ the ‘Wolf Prager’s Synagogue’ and ‘Henry Isaac’s Synagogue’ – after the son of Wolf Prager.

Jochanan Höllischau’s successor as rabbi was Rabbi Meshullam Solomon (1723-1794) or Zalman. Meanwhile, Rabbi Hirschel Levin (1721-1800), also known as Hart Lyon and Hirshel Löbel, was effectively appointed as the chief rabbi of both the Hambro’ and the Great Synagogue in 1757-1758. He was the father of Dr Solomon Herschell (1762-1842), a later chief rabbi (1802-1842).

After Chief Rabbi Hart Lyon left London in 1764, it was agreed that his successor should be appointed and maintained by the Great Synagogue and the Hambro’ Synagogue jointly. However, they could not agree on a single name. The Great Synagogue appointed their rabbi, Tevele Schiff, as Chief Rabbi, while the Hambro’ Synagogue appointed their Rabbi, Israel Meshullam Zalman, who was Schiff’s cousin, who became known in England as Meshullam Solomon.

Solomon was born in Altona, near Hamburg, and was one of two rival Chief Rabbis and the rabbi of the Hambro’ Synagogue. Rabbi Solomon claimed authority as Chief Rabbi from 1765 to 1780, while Rabbi Tevele Schiff claimed the same authority from 1765 to 1791.

Rabbi Solomon was the son of Jacob Emden, the grandson of the Chacham Tzvi, and a great-great-great grandson of Elijah Ba’al Shem of Chelm. After being rabbi at Podhajce, he was appointed rabbi of the Hamburger Hambro' Synagogue in London in 1764. The Hambro’ Synagogue managed to bring his salary up to £150 and granted him £50 for travelling expenses and £120 to set up house in London.

Each rival Chief Rabbi tried to claim authority, causing a split in the London Rabbinate. The Jews of the provinces were confused as to which Chief Rabbi they should follow.

Solomon was sure of his supremacy, as he had been legitimately appointed Chief Rabbi and two synagogues followed him in London, as against only one that accepted Schiff – even if it was the larger and the wealthier synagogue. Solomon saw Schiff as an impostor and had no hesitation in signing himself as ‘Rabbi of London and the provinces,’ declaring himself Rabbi of the Ashkenazi communities.

In 1777, Solomon published a translation of a sermon he preached the previous year for the success of the British Army during the American War of Independence. This was the earliest address delivered in an Ashkenazi synagogue in England made available in print to the general public.

When in 1774 he invalidated a get or divorce document brought from Amsterdam in 1768, he was publicly criticised by a Sephardi scholar, Shalom Buzaglo. His own matrimonial troubles attracted attention in the press in 1778, when it was reported that the ‘Jew Priest’ of the Hambro’ Synagogue had divorced his ‘Priestess.’ His relations with his congregation become embittered, while the income of the Hambro’ Synagogue fell to such a degree that it was unable to continue paying the salary of its own rabbi.

The problem was resolved after a split within the Jewish community in Portsmouth. When a dissident group in Portsmouth established a rival synagogue recognising the authority of Solomon, the main community formally accepted the authority of Schiff, who in 1766 began to be known as the ‘Chief Rabbi’. Meshullam Solomon left London in 1780 for a post in Russia.

Once Solomon left England, the dispute that began quickly came to an end. From then on, the Rabbinate of the Great Synagogue was recognised without question by all Jewish communities in the provincial towns, and all of whom accepted Tevele Schiff’s authority. Meshullam Solomon died in Hamburg in 1794.

A narrow street between Fenchurch Street Station and Crutched Friars … Magpie Alley or Church Passage was once located in this area (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Meanwhile, the freehold of the site in Magpie Alley off Fenchurch Street was bequeathed to the congregation in 1805 by Eleazar Philip Salamons.

Fenchurch Street was once one of the principal streets of the City of London, and extends about two-fifths of a mile west from Aldgate to Gracechurch Street. Magpie Alley, later known as Church Passage, was a narrow passage close to Fenchurch Street railway station, and ran south towards Crutched Friars, just to the east of present day Fenchurch Place.

The Hambro’ Synagogue was one of the original five synagogues that formed the United Synagogue in 1870.

The Hambro’ Synagogue moved in 1899 to Union Street, off Commercial Road, in Whitechapel, now Adler Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

The synagogue was pulled down in 1892-1893 to make room for improvements in the City of London. Services were then held in the vestry room or hall of the Great Synagogue in Duke’s Street, now Duke’s Place, from 1893 until a new Hambro’ Synagogue was opened in Union Street, off Commercial Road, in Whitechapel in the heart of London’s East End, in 1899. The new synagogue was consecrated by the Chief Rabbi, Dr Hermann Adler (1839-1911), on 27 August 1899.

Union Street was later renamed Adler Street after the former Chief Rabbi. It runs south, some 700 ft from Whitechapel High Road to Commercial Road, about 1,000 east of Gardiners Corner.

However, this Hambro’ Synagogue closed in 1936, when the congregations was merged with the Great Synagogue, after almost 230 years of independence. The Great Synagogue on Duke’s Place was destroyed in September 1941 during World War II.

Chag Purim Sameach!

A plaque marks the site of the Great Synagogue on Duke’s Place, destroyed in 1941 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Hanbury Street and some East End synagogues with names recalling Holocaust massacres

At one time, Hanbury Street off Brick Lane had up to seven synagogues, many tucked away in courtyards behind the street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Patrick Comerford

Purim this year begins on Monday evening (6 March 2023) and ends on Tuesday evening (7 March 2023). Purim recalls the story of Esther and of the near-destruction of the Jewish people plotted by Haman, a courtier of King Ahasuerus of Persia.

On the Friday evening before Purim it is interesting to visit the locations of some East End synagogues that have connections with towns in present-day Poland, Lithuania and Belarus where the Jewish communities were almost annihilated during the Holocaust.

During my recent walks around the East End, I visited a number of synagogues and former synagogues, and plan to continue writing about them in the coming days and weeks. In my blog postings in recent days, I have written about the Spital Square Poltava Synagogue at 2 Heneage Street, the former Artillery Lane Synagogue, near Liverpool Street Station, the former Gun Street Synagogue, near Spitalfields, and the East London Central Synagogue, also known as Nelson Street Synagogue.

Hanbury Street in the East End was an important part of the Jewish area off Brick Lane at the beginning of the 20th century. A blue plaque at 12 Hanbury Street recalls Bud Flanagan who was born there as Chaim Reeven (Reuben) Weintrop in 1896. He was a member of the ‘Crazy Gang,’ whose most famous song was ‘Underneath the Arches.’ In his early days, he also sang as a part-time cantor (hazzan) in a synagogue.

At one time, Hanbury Street had up to seven synagogues: the Konin Synagogue at 48 Hanbury Street; the Glory of Israel and Sons of Klatsk Synagogue at No 50½, followed in time by the Poltava Synagogue also at No 50½; the Brethren of Suwalki Synagogue at No 56; Hanbury Street Synagogue at 60 Hanbury Street; the Lovers of Peace Synagogue and the Voice of Jacob Synagogue, both as 183/185 Hanbury Street; and Saint George’s Settlement Synagogue, at 192/196 Hanbury Street.

Many of these small, short-lived synagogues were founded by people who came from larger Jewish communities in Poland, Lithuania and present-day Belarus that were almost totally annihilated during the Holocaust and World War II.

The Konin Synagogue, once at 48 Hanbury Street, took its name from Konin in central Poland (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

The Konin Synagogue, once at 48 Hanbury Street, was also known as the United Brethren of Konia or Brothers of Konin.

This synagogue took its name from Konin, a town in central Poland, and until the 1930s Jews were 30% of Konin’s population. During the Holocaust, the Nazis many of the town’s Jews in the surrounding forests, and in mass executions 95% of Konin’s Jews were killed or sent to concentration camps. In August 1943, the Jews at the labour camp at Konin, led by Rabbi Joshua Moshe Aaronson, burned down the huts in the camp and tried to escape. Almost all were killed.

The synagogue at 48 Hanbury Street was founded between 1881 and 1887, and it was one of the congregations involved in the formation of the Federation of Synagogues in 1887. At one time, it had 45 members. It had closed by 1906.

The B’nai Klatsk Synagogue was at 50½ Hanbury Street … about 4,000 Jews were murdered in a massacre in Kletsk on 6 October 1941 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

The B’nai Klatsk Synagogue, also known as the Glory of Israel and Sons of Klatsk Synagogue, was at 50½ Hanbury Street. The Poltava Synagogue had been at this address from 1915 before moving short distance to Heneage Street.

This synagogue was almost hidden from view and was accessed through a small passage or alleyway through the buildings on Hanbury Street.

The B’nai Klatsk Synagogue seems to have taken its name from Kletsk, a city now in the Minsk Region of Belarus, but part of Poland in the 1920s and 1930s. Kletsk had a population of about 8,000 in 1903, of whom about 6,000 were Jews. During the Holocaust, about 4,000 Jews were murdered in a massacre in the town on 6 October 1941. The remaining 2,000 Jews were sent to concentration camps in 1942, and the Holocaust brought an end to a vibrant Jewish life.

The Glory of Israel and Sons of Klatsk Synagogue was at 50½ Hanbury Street from the late 1920s until it closed in the mid-1930s, when it was incorporated into the Mile End Town Synagogue.

The Mile End Town Synagogue, which was founded in 1880, was also known as Great Mile End New Town Synagogue or Dunk Street Chevra. It was at 39 Dunk Street, Whitechapel, and it too was one of the congregations involved in the formation of the Federation of Synagogues in 1887.

The Mile End Town Synagogue closed around 1956, the neighbourhood around Dunk Street was redeveloped and Dunk Street no longer exists.

The Brethren of Suwalki Synagogue was once at 56 Hanbury Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

The Brethren of Suwalki Synagogue was once at 56 Hanbury Street. Suwalki is in north-east Poland, close to the provinces of Kovno, Vilno and the city of Grodno, and about 30 km from the border with Lithuania. It was in of Lithuania until 1386, when it became part of Poland. It was absorbed into the Tsarist empire in 1815, and remained under Russian rule until after World War I, when the area was divided between Poland and Lithuania.

Jewish life in Suwalki began only in the early 19th century, and by 1862 the city had a Jewish population of 7,165.

During the Polish uprising in 1863, the Jews of Suwalki suffered at the hands of both Poles and Cossacks. Yet, by 1908 there were about 13,000 Jews in Suwalki, and 10,000-11,000 at the beginning of World War II, with about 27 synagogues and Jewish congregations, as well as a Jewish-run hotel, hospital and schools. Avraham Stern, founder of the ‘Stern Gang,’ was born and raised in Suwalki.

When the Nazis invaded Poland, they changed the name of Suwalki to Sudauen, and incorporated it into East Prussia. They forced the city’s Jews to live in a new ghetto until most of them were murdered in the Holocaust.

Today, Suwalki has the highest unemployment rate in Poland, and the only memory of the Jewish community who lived there for 130 years is the empty silent cemetery where 32,000 Jews are buried

Hanbury Street Synagogue was at 60 Hanbury Street in the early 20th century (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Hanbury Street Synagogue was at 60 Hanbury Street for about two or three years in the early 1900s. This too was a synagogue that was almost hidden from view and it was reached through a small passage or alleyway through the buildings on Hanbury Street.

It was founded by 1905, when it had about 70 members. It was an affiliated synagogue of the Federation of Synagogues and closed after 1906.

The Lovers of Peace Synagogue, also known as the Voice of Jacob Synagogue, was at 183/185 Hanbury Street, and also included the Great Garden Street Talmud Torah.

The congregation may have been founded in 1890, although it was only at Hanbury Street in from the 1920s or 1930s. It too was an affiliated to the Federation of Synagogues, and it closed around 1951.

Today, the Montefiore Centre is at 183/185 Hanbury Street. But the stories of the Montefiore Centre and the Saint George’s Settlement Synagogue, formerly at 192/196 Hanbury Street, and the stories of Robert Sebag Montefiore and Sir Basil Henriques, are stories for another day.

Shabbat Shalom, Chag Purim Sameach!

Hanbury Street was once at the heart of an East End Jewish community with origins in Poland (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

For Jewish refugees, every story is different and everyone has their own story on this Purim

Rabbi Yitzchak Raskin prepares food for a group of refugees in Bucharest (Photograph: Chabad)

While almost everyone in Ireland, and everyone who claims Irish roots, is preparing to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day, Jews throughout the world are celebrating Purim, which begins this evening (16 March 2022) and continues until tomorrow evening (17 March).

Purim recalls the account in the Scroll of Esther of how the Jews of Persia were under dire threat of extermination, saved by a divinely orchestrated combination of serendipity, bravery, and faith.

The extreme joy of Purim came after some extremely challenging times. But as Jews everywhere celebrate Purim, many are thinking this evening of those Jewish people in Ukraine, many of them too scared to venture out to celebrate as a community, and thinking of those Jews who will be marking Purim in refugee camps or in unfamiliar surroundings far from their families and their home.

Purim is a story of when the Jewish people in Persia triumphed over those who were set to destroy them. It is a story of our perseverance, and something to celebrate. And so, the story of Esther has particular resonances for Jewish communities and families in Ukraine this week.

In the last two weeks, some 22,000 Jewish Ukrainian refugees have streamed to Ukraine’s borders. There, after a treacherous journey by bus, car or train, they must wait at one of Ukraine’s international border crossings for many hours before their dash to safety is over.

But then they find the journey has just begun. Usually arriving with little more than a carry-on bag and the clothes on their back, they are thrust into the world of the unknown, in foreign countries filled with people speaking languages they do not know. The second phase of the journey is usually through Poland, Moldova, Romania, Hungary or Slovakia.

The World Jewish Congress is working with its two Ukrainian affiliates, the VAAD of Ukraine and the Jewish Confederation of Ukraine (JCU), in an ever-changing and unpredictable crisis.

The situation changes hour-by-hour, but the WJC understands there have been no specific threats directed towards the Jewish community of Ukraine greater than those felt by other Ukrainians.

The JCU is focused on providing critical life-saving aid to the most vulnerable group in this situation – the Jews of Kyiv from the elderly home, among whom are many Holocaust survivors. These people cannot be evacuated due to their age and medical condition.

Jewish communities bordering Ukraine have stepped up to help the refugees entering their countries.

At the Polish and Moldovan borders, Jewish volunteer teams waiting with hot food ready to assist the bedraggled refugees after days of traveling. In Romania, Slovakia and Hungary, private apartments and homes, hotel rooms and even entire campsites and hotels have been secured to house the refugees as they find their bearings and plan the next steps.

The Federation of the Jewish Communities of Romania has two welcome centres on the borders with Ukraine: one at Siret, which is the main border crossing, and one at Sighetu Marmatieti. They are is taking care of about 2,000 Jewish refugees, providing accommodation, food, and medical care, and serving 2,000 hot meals a day, with volunteers distributing clothing and blankets and running a 24/7 helpline in English, Russian, and Hebrew.

Rabbi Naftali Deutsch and Risha Deutsch of Chabad, together with Rabbi Yitzchak Raskin and Dvora Lea Raskin, have been welcoming hundreds of refugees in Bucharest each day, providing a hot, fresh meal and finding a place to stay. When a woman from Odessa went into labour, Risha Deutsch, herself a mother of six, rushed her to hospital, where she gave birth to a healthy child.

Max Feferboim, who arrived in Bucharest from Kyiv through Moldova some days ago, translates, calls hotels to secure rooms, helps refugees get legal documents, and finds doctors and medication. ‘Many older people are arriving; many women and children are arriving alone. They don’t know what to do or where to go,’ he says.

In Iași, Chabad has secured three hotels and is running a massive operation to feed and house the refugees. The effort is being led by Rabbi Shalom Gopin, who arrived in Romania from Ukraine last week. But this is not Rabbi Gopin’s first time on the run: in 2014, he fled Lugansk in eastern Ukraine with his community for Kyiv.

Rabbi Gopin and his wife Chani have rented a hotel, and there they began cooking for hundreds of people for Shabbat. Very quickly, they ran out of food and had to ship more in from Bucharest. He says: ‘This is a humanitarian catastrophe that Europe hasn’t known since World War II. You cannot imagine the terrible pain.’

In Cluj-Napoca, Rabbi Dovber and Fraidy Orgad are feeding and sheltering hundreds of refugees on a daily basis. He rented the biggest hotel in town, koshered the kitchen and transformed it into a refugee camp overnight. One of the first groups to stay there was were children from a Jewish children’s home in Zhitomir, Ukraine.

More than 1 million Ukrainian refugees have crossed over into Poland, including many Ukrainian Jews. In Kraków, Rabbi Eliezer Gurary is working with a local hotel and several private apartments and homes to accommodate refugees from Ukraine. He describes how people arrive at the border with no way forward and in dire need of help.

In Hungary, over 50 Jewish NGOs have formed a crisis team to coordinate relief efforts for refugees from Ukraine. Their actions speak directly to the mitzvah of ‘Tikkun Olam’ – repairing the world.

Volunteers from Jewish communities in Hungary are welcoming refugees at the main train station in Budapest. Currently Jewish communities are hosting and accommodating some 1,000 people. We are all grateful.

An aid delivery was recently sent from Hungary to the Jewish community of Ukraine, with sleeping bags, medicine, and food necessities. In Debrecen, close to the border, Rabbi Shmuel Faigen and Riki Faigen have been receiving a constant flow of refugees.

Similar stories are being told in Slovakia, where the Slovakian Jewish community in the last few days is also extremely active in preparing for the influx of potentially larger number of Jewish refugees and to be ready for any scenario possible.

But, of course, every story is different and each person has his or her own story. Volunteers came across one Jewish woman, whose grandparents spoke Yiddish but who received no Jewish education herself. ‘She lit Shabbat candles here for the first time.’

Chag Purim Sameach

The rain falls down on ‘Last Year’s Man’: new thoughts after Purim

‘Last Year’s Man’ is the second track on Leonard Cohen’s album, ‘Songs of Love and Hate,’ released 50 years ago in 1971

Patrick Comerford

Leonard Cohen released his third studio album, Songs of Love and Hate, 50 years ago on 19 March 1971. The album was recorded the previous September, and all eight songs are written by Cohen: Avalanche, Last Year’s Man, Dress Rehearsal Rag, Diamonds in the Mine, Love Calls You by Your Name, Famous Blue Raincoat, Sing Another Song, Boys, and Joan of Arc. There is a bonus track on the 2007 remastered edition: Dress Rehearsal Rag.

I had already become an avid reader of Leonard Cohen’s poems, and I listened to this album throughout the summer of 1971. I was in my late teens, and it was a summer that became nothing less than life-changing in terms of my spiritual growth and maturity.

Today has been the feast of Purim, a day recalling and celebrating how Esther and her uncle Mordecai overturned the genocidal scheming of the evil Haman and his plot to annihilate the Jews of Persia. It is a true story of Love and Hate.

In my Friday evening reflections this evening, I find myself listening once again to the album Songs of Love and Hate, especially the second track, ‘Last Year’s Man,’ with its images of ‘a lady’ with a secret identity who ‘was playing with her soldiers in the dark’ – perhaps an image of Esther; of Bethlehem being ensnared in the evil plots of Babylon – perhaps an image of the dreadful fate Haman had plotted; and of the murderous schemes of Cain – who represents not only Haman but all who would want to plot the extermination of the people.

This song has remained on the periphery of Cohen’s classic songs, and is often interpreted as a song about an obsessive love that Cohen has experienced, still seeking this unrequited love.

But the song is filled with Biblical images, and like many of Cohen’s songs it can has its parallels with the songs of many of the Biblical prophets, who see God as faithful to people, keeps on loving them, and yearns for their return, and the people as a wayward, unfaithful spouse or lover.

‘Last Year’s Man’ is no-one less than God, who is the great architect, the Creator, who is dismissed too easily in today’s, modern culture as no longer relevant or credible.

In our wars, violence and lifestyles today, we frustrate God’s plans, we spoil and sully his plans for humanity, and we dismiss him as ‘last year’s man.’

We make new gods of power, wealth and war, we invent our own new superstitions. But God still has plans and hopes for his wayward people, and waits like a faithful husband for the lover who has turned away to return.

There is an echo of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Micah and other prophets in the promise:

And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin
that the wilderness is gathering
all its children back again.

The relevant passages include Isaiah 64 and 65, Jeremiah 31, Hosea 1 and 2, and Micah 7.

At first hearing, there may be a Jewish reference in the description of ‘a Jew’s harp on the table.’ But a Jew’s harp is not Jewish at all, and we have to search deeper in this song to draw water from the well of Jewish mysticism in which Cohen so often found refreshment.

In Jewish mysticism, it is God the Creator who breaks through the cracks – whether they are in skylights or in unmended drums – to pour his light into the world. ‘There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in,’ as Leonard Cohen sings his song ‘Anthem’ (The Future, 1992).

In their writings, both Leonard Cohen and the late Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks have introduced me to the writings of the 16th century Jewish mystic, Rabbi Isaac Luria (1534-1572), whose teachings are known as Lurianic Kabbalah.

According to Isaac Luria, God created vessels into which he poured his holy light. These vessels were not strong enough to contain such a powerful force and they shattered. The sparks of divine light were carried down to earth along with the broken shards.

The Kabbalah of Rav Yitzhak Luria had a notably strong effect on Cohen, and his key ideas are reflected in that line, ‘There is a crack in everything, it’s how the light gets in.’

This divine brokenness is a key to many of Cohen’s poems and songs, according to his rabbi, Mordecai Finley, who says Lurianic Kabbalah gives voice to the impossible brokenness of the human condition. ‘The pain of the Divine breakage permeates reality. We inherit it; it inhabits us. We can deny it. Or we can study and teach it, write it and sing its mournful songs.’

Cohen hints in his songs that redemption – the tikkun olam that will repair the broken world – remains possible.

He returns to the Judaism of his childhood and youth, wraps the tefillin around his upper arm, and finds new insights in the Torah: ‘And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin.’

Cohen regularly ended his concerts with the Priestly Blessing (ברכת כהנים; birkat Cohanim). It is also known in rabbinic literature as raising the hands or rising to the platform because the blessing is given from a raised rostrum.

The Jewish Sages stressed that although the Cohanim or priests pronounce the blessing, it is not them or the ceremonial practice of raising their hands that results in the blessing, but rather it is God’s desire that his blessing should be symbolised by the hands of the Cohanim.

Lord Sacks says the Torah explicitly says that though the Cohanim say the words, it is God who sends the blessing: ‘When the Cohanim bless the people, they are not doing anything in and of themselves. Instead, they are acting as channels through which God’s blessing flows into the world and into our lives.’

In many communities, it is customary for men in the congregation to spread their tallitot or prayer shawls over their own heads during the blessing and not look at the Cohanim. If a man has children, they come under his tallit to be blessed.

A tradition among Ashkenazim says that during this blessing, the Shekhinah becomes present where the Cohanim have their hands in the shin gesture, so that gazing there would be harmful.

An understanding of how the God’s light is thought to be present through the outstretched fingers of the Cohanim may lie behind Leonard Cohen’s lines in ‘Anthem’:

There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

The light of God breaks through in the crack in the skylight, and the rains fall like a blessing on all God’s creation.

Shabbas Shalom

Last Year’s Man by Leonard Cohen:

The rain falls down on last year’s man,
That’s a Jew’s harp on the table,
That’s a crayon in his hand.
And the corners of the blueprint are ruined since they rolled
Far past the stems of thumbtacks
That still throw shadows on the wood.
And the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend
And all the rain falls down Amen
On the works of last year’s man.

I met a lady, she was playing with her soldiers in the dark
Oh one by one she had to tell them
That her name was Joan of Arc.
I was in that army, yes I stayed a little while;
I want to thank you, Joan of Arc,
For treating me so well.

And though I wear a uniform I was not born to fight;
All these wounded boys you lie beside,
Goodnight, my friends, goodnight.

I came upon a wedding that old families had contrived;
Bethlehem the bridegroom,
Babylon the bride.
Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me,
And Bethlehem inflamed us both
Like the shy one at some orgy.
And when we fell together all our flesh was like a veil
That I had to draw aside to see
The serpent eat its tail.

Some women wait for Jesus, and some women wait for Cain,
So I hang upon my altar
And I hoist my axe again.
And I take the one who finds me back to where it all began,
When Jesus was the honeymoon
And Cain was just the man.
And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin
That the wilderness is gathering
All its children back again.

The rain falls down on last year’s man,
An hour has gone by
And he has not moved his hand.
But everything will happen if he only gives the word;
The lovers will rise up
And the mountains touch the ground.
But the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend
And all the rain falls down Amen
On the works of last year’s man.



‘Last Year's Man’ by Leonard Cohen, Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

The miracles of Purim continue in the face of racism and anti-Semitism

The holiday of Purim begins at sunset this evening

Patrick Comerford

The holiday of Purim begins at sunset this evening (25 February 2021) and ends at sunset tomorrow evening (26 February 2021). Purim literally means ‘lots’ and is sometimes known as the Feast of Lots. This Jewish holiday commemorates the Jews being saved from persecution in the ancient Persian Empire.

According to the Book of Esther, the Jewish people in Shushan were threatened by the chief minister Haman, who convinces the King Ahasuerus to kill all Jews, because Mordecai, a Jew, had refused to bow down to Haman.

Haman casts lots to decide the date for his plan – the 13th of Adar. But the Jews are saved by Mordecai’s niece and adopted daughter, the heroic Queen Esther. She married Ahasuerus after he banished Vashti, his first, rebellious wife. When Ahasuerus discovers that Esther is Jewish, he reverses Haman’s decree, and instead of the Jews being killed, Haman, his sons, and other enemies are killed.

Purim is the most raucous holiday in the Jewish calendar and occurs today (14 Adar). It begins with people, especially children, dressing up in fancy dress, such as characters from the Purim story, and other costumes. It is Hallowe’en, Carnival, Mardi Gras and Guy Fawkes Night ... all rolled into one, and usually focussed on children.

The Book of Esther is the only book in the Bible that does not mention God. But this book is a story that tells of the triumph of good over evil, and how the clever thinking of one woman saves a whole nation from genocide.

Before reading the Megillah, the person who is to read says the following three blessings:

‘Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has made us holy through his commandments, and has commanded us about reading the Megillah.

‘Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who performed miracles for our ancestors in those days at this time.

‘Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has given us life, sustained us, and brought us to this time.’

As the story of Purim is read from Megillat Esther (מגילת אסתר, ‘The Scroll of Esther’), it is a custom to make loud noise with a rattle, known as a ra’ashan (Hebrew) or grager (Yiddish), every time Haman’s name is repeated. The custom is related to the obligation to blot out Haman’s name.

It is a mitzvah that Jewish people should eat, drink and be merry at Purim. According to the Talmud, a person is required to drink until they cannot tell the difference between ‘Cursed be Haman’ and ‘Blessed be Mordecai’ ... although opinions differ as to exactly how drunk that is.

An integral part of Purim is giving gifts to the poor, matanot l’evyonim, with door-to-door charity collections and on the streets.

Purim is a carnival-like festival that includes large amounts of alcohol, family meals, and exchanging food gifts mishloah manot. A special food associated with Purim is hamantaschen, the triangular cookies named after the villainous Haman.

Purim was celebrated last year two weeks before the first Covid-19 lockdown. The ultra-Orthodox or Haredi community in Stamford Hill in north London was particularly hard hit by the virus. This year, rabbis in the community have said the number of people on the streets should be minimised, people should not visit other homes for the festive meal or seudah, and there should be no street collections.

A Megillath Ester or Scroll of Esther in the Monastir Synagogue in Thessaloniki (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

At first, the story of Purim might appear sombre with its recollection of the near-annihilation. But it is also a story of bravery, courage and salvation, and it is a reminder that anti-Semitism has deep roots that long predate contemporary experiences.

Esther is a secret Jew, and her story encouraged secret Jews during the Inquisition in Spain and Portugal, when Saint Esther emerged as a popular figure among the conversos. Later, the story of Purim was an abiding comfort encouragement to European Jews in the mid-20th century.

Pinchas Menachem Feivlovitz, who died in 2007, was a Holocaust survivor who devoted much of his life to chronicling and telling the atrocities of the Holocaust. He told of his experiences in the concentration camp of Gross-Rosen in his autobiographical Odeni Zocher (I Still Recall). In this book, he recalls how Purim was marked one year in Gross-Rosen:

‘It was Purim eve, but what was there for us to celebrate …?

‘Suddenly, one of us leaped down from his small space on the bunk and began an impassioned speech that will forever remain in my memory:

‘“My fellow Jews,” he called out, “dear brothers in suffering! Today is our Purim, when we remember the miracles G d did for our ancestors. He who dwells in Heaven saved our nation from being decimated. The enemy fell into the pit that he himself had dug. Today we once again have a double-edged sword pressed against our necks. Our enemies are trying to destroy us, but do not allow terror into your hearts! The Haman of our day, Hitler and his lackeys, will not be able to overcome G d’s chosen nation. The eternity of Israel will not lie. The bells of freedom are already ringing in the distance. We will yet live to see justice meted out against our enemies, just like our ancestors in Shushan of old. Be strong, brothers, the Jewish nation lives on!”

‘Beads of sweat appeared on his face. His lips trembled, his eyes glinted, but he said no more.

‘Then another prisoner jumped down from his bunk and took his place next to the orator. Sweetly, with a voice laden with nostalgia and hope, he sang the words of the blessing said after the Megillah reading, in which we thank G d “Who fights our battles and pays comeuppance to our mortal enemies.”

‘As the rest of us absorbed the last echoes of the tune, the two men lithely climbed back into their spots on the tiered bunking and silence reigned once again.

‘In our minds, we were blissfully transported back to the happy Purims of years past, but we knew the joy would not last.

‘The following morning, the block commander stormed into the barrack: “Cursed Jews!” he shouted. “Last night someone here spoke disparagingly of our Führer. Tell me who it was! If I do not know who it was, you will all be punished before the day is done!”

‘His words were met with defiant silence … Ten minutes passed, and no one uttered a word. “Run, swine, run!” the commander barked, and we Jews began to run as fast as we could, while the guards rained down a shower of rifle butts and whips upon our heads and backs. “Quick, quick,” they shouted as rivers of blood spurted from our heads and our arms.

Our backs sagged and our feet ached. ‘But we had only one fear: that last night’s brave performers, who had gifted us with hope and courage, would give themselves up in order to save us from further suffering. One even tried to run out of line to identify himself, but his neighbours didn’t allow it. “No, no,” they hissed with clenched teeth, “Stay strong. We are all responsible for one another.”

‘I have no way of recalling how long this went on, because every moment felt like eternity. We ran with our last strength, panting, with no air to breathe. Our tongues hung out, and tears mingled with sweat on our cheeks. But no one even considered ratting on the heroes of the previous night.

‘Yes, even the prisoners of Gross-Rosen merited their own Purim miracle – two miracles, actually: That no one dropped dead from the diabolic run we were forced to endure, and that we all had the courage to keep the identity of those two men secret.’

This prayer on Purim, written by Rabbi John Rayner and Rabbi Chaim Stern, is provided in Service of the Heart (1969), the prayer book they edited:

Today, we remember how often our people has had to face prejudice and slander, hatred and oppression. In many lands and ages, Hamans have arisen up against us, and untold suffering has been our lot. We have paid a high price for our loyalty to God and to our ancestral heritage.

But the same heritage has given us courage to bear our suffering with dignity and fortitude, and to remain unshaken in the conviction that in the end good must triumph over evil, truth over falsehood, and love over hate.

We have survived all our oppressors, and can look back upon our history not only with sorrow for its tragedies, but with joy at its deliverances, and pride in its achievements. At this season of rejoicing, O God, inspire us anew with such loyalty to You, to our faith, and to our people, that it may be proof against adversity, and that the heritage it has entrusted to us may be sure in our keeping. Amen.

A Megillath Ester or Scroll of Esther in the Jewish Museum in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

When being open and caring ‘is not just something nice to do … it is our obligation.’

Megillat Ester or Scroll of Esther, silver with coloured stones and gilded, dated Vienna 1844, in the Jewish Museum, Vienna … this evening is ‘Shabbat Zachor’, the Sabbath immediately before Purum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Friday next is Purim (26 February), and this evening marks the beginning of Shabbat Zachor (שבת זכור), the ‘Sabbath of Remembrance’ immediately before Purim. As part of my Friday evening reflections this evening, I am reading Deuteronomy 25: 17-19, the additional reading this evening, recalling the attack by Amalek.

Purim is the holiday recalling how Haman was foiled by Esther in his plot to destroy the Jewish people. There is a tradition from the Talmud that Haman, the antagonist in the Purim story, was a descendant of Amalek. This reading includes a commandment to remember the attack by Amalek:

‘Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey out of Egypt, how he attacked you on the way, when you were faint and weary, and struck down all who lagged behind you; he did not fear God. Therefore when the Lord your God has given you rest from all your enemies on every hand, in the land that the Lord your God is giving you to possess, you shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; do not forget.’

The wording seems paradoxical: to remember Amalek yet, at the same time, to eradicate his memory from the face of the earth – and ‘do not forget.’

Do you find this with bad memories? I want to forget them, yet, in trying to erase them, they keep coming back into my mind and haunting my memories.

When the freed Hebrew slaves fled Egypt, no other nation dared to engage them in combat. Who would want to go into battled with a people whose God was associated with ten awesome plagues in Egypt, and with the drowning of the might of the Egyptian army in the sea?

Amalek alone was driven by enough hatred to wage battle. Deuteronomy 25 recalls that as the freed slaves were fleeing, Amalek picked off the old, the weak and the disabled who had lagged behind the rest of the people.

This extra portion of the Law, beginning with the phrase, ‘Remember what Amalek did to you,’ is linked to Purim because of the account of the meeting between Saul and Agag, the King of the Amalekites, in the special Zachor haftorah or reading on this Shabbat Zachor or ‘Sabbath of Remembrance.’

Rabbinic tradition says that when King Saul spared Agag, leaving him to Samuel to kill (see I Samuel 15: 2-34), this small gap in time was sufficient for Agag to become a father, resulting in time in the birth of Haman, the antagonist in the Purim story.

There is a story in the Midrash that in the time between being spared by Saul and his execution by Samuel, Agag cried out to God in prison: ‘Woe is me that my progeny will be lost to the world.’ There is something audacious about this Midrash. It attributes the birth of a demonic evil enemy of the Jewish people to the reward of a positive act by another wicked enemy of the Jews. Since Agag ‘prayed to God,’ he was rewarded with descendants.

What could the author of this Midrash possibly have had in mind here?

This Midrash probably sought to emphasise the idea that recognition of God and prayer never go unrewarded, not even when this prayer is by those who are furthest from God. If Agag was answered, then most certainly so are the prayers of those who believe in God and are faithful to God.

This affirmation that people are ultimately redeemable is crucial to the Jewish message. Optimism must reign. This message is particularly acute in the Purim story, where ultimate despair is rescued by optimism. In darkness, there will ultimately be light.

The rabbis puzzled over the apparently paradoxical command in Deuteronomy, which appears to say to remember and to forget.

Rabbi Stanley Halpern of Congregation Beth Shalom in Indianapolis suggests that the command to remember is a command to remember that it was actually the responsibility of everyone to protect all the community.

But they let the Amalekites kill off those who lagged behind, those who could not keep up and so remained outside the protection of the community. Everyone had to bear responsibility for what Amalek did. We must remember this and then blot out the name of Amalek (or Haman) so that they are forgotten.

In his comments, Rabbi Stanley Halpern says, ‘Most recently this set of commands has been applied to those with disabilities. All too many of our institutions are inaccessible to those with special needs … whether it is the lack of physical accessibility, assisted listening devices or Braille texts … all things which can be physically provided.’

And he continues: ‘But there is another type of accessibility which is not physical but, rather, emotional. Our Jewish community needs not just institutions that can be entered physically; they must be emotionally welcoming, too. All too often interfaith families, families with small children, gays and lesbians, those with very limited financial resources, Jews by Choice and Jews with illnesses are not truly welcome.

‘If we are to build a truly vibrant Jewish community, we must be open to all and welcome the varied contributions that a diverse population has to offer.’

In saying his synagogue must be open to all, he says, ‘we need to be a “Light to the Nations,” including to those Jewish institutions that are not as open and caring. We need to remind them that it is not just something nice to do … it is our obligation.’

Shabbat Shalom