It's the central symbol on the Israeli flag, it's the name of the Israeli version of the Red Cross, Magen David Adom, and of course, it was painfully forced upon us in the Second World War. The yellow patch that all Jews had to wear on their clothing, and which brought them ridicule, shame, and violence, was indeed a six-pointed star. And yet, when you look across the span of Jewish history, the Star of David is surprisingly absent from the list of images and religious symbols that were used to identify Jews. Who knew?
At the start of this week's Torah portion, we read about the detailed construction of the lampstand, the Menorah, which stood in the Tabernacle during the Exodus from Egypt, and later also in the Ancient Temple in Jerusalem. Now THAT was a Jewish symbol! In ancient ruins, in books and manuscripts, and - famously (or infamously) - on the Arch of Titus being carried away by Roman conquerors; we see the seven-
armed candelabra that we all know so well. Before the last two centuries, or so, most people would NOT have pictured the Star of David as representing Judaism, they would likely have chosen the Menorah. And yet even the Menorah is actually kind of a surprising choice of artifacts to represent the Jews. Why, among all the items in the Temple, did the candelabra become so important? That same sacred sanctuary also contained a bronze laver, an elaborate table to display bread, a crucial altar for burning offerings, and of course, the Ark of the Covenant, for heaven's sake! Several of these were directly linked to either God's commandments or the sacrificial rite which was absolutely essential to Israelite worship and identity. In comparison, what was so special about the Menorah??
Nevertheless, the central Jewish image - even in the time of the Torah - was the seven-armed lampstand. Perhaps because it reminded us of the Divine Light shining on God's people and on the world. Or perhaps the Menorah ensured that we always remember to be 'a light unto the nations' (Isaiah, 42:6 & 49:6).
I've been thinking about this right now, because I just came back from visiting my family in Stockholm, Sweden. Ok, so not a particularly obvious connection to stars and candlesticks, I'll admit, but here's my reasoning: As we grow up, and we move to different places, change jobs, expand our families, and watch our tastes and preferences shift; the
symbols that represent who we are evolve as well. The Swedish flag always felt like a symbol that was part of me growing up. However, now that it's been fifteen (oy) years since I lived there, that same flag feels more like history and nostalgia than identity and belonging. That is just one example. We can each name other symbols that once were prominent in our lives, but may have become less significant with the passing of time. This is not a bad thing. It's life. And I think it's great to be able to look back and reconnect with our history, and see it for what it is. It helps ground us in the present, and strengthens our identity in the here and now. Yesterday, the Ancient Menorah. Today, the Star of David. Tomorrow? We can only image-ine...
Photos in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Magen David Adom on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC image courtesy of Gunnar Bach Pedersen on Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Alex Proimos on Wikimedia Commons
4. Image courtesy of Rabbi Gerber's iPhone. The Swedish flag that hangs in my office, right next to a painting of a man blowing a shofar. Two images living in harmony.
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