An old Jewish legend has it that, when God permitted the waters of the Red Sea to return upon the Egyptian army as it attempted to follow the exodus of the Jews out of Egypt, the angels rejoiced, singing and praising God. But, as the legend continues, God stops them during their celebration. “Can’t you see,” He asks, “that some of my Egyptian children are drowning?!?”
Every year, during the season of Lent, Passover and Easter, I seem to encounter those folk who choose to “remind” me that I, as a Christian, blame the Jews for the death of Jesus Christ. If I ever had the opportunity to respond to that “reminder”, I would say that I don’t blame the Jews for any such thing. Christ’s death occurred at the hands of some people who happened to be Jewish, and were responding to the ministry of Christ in a way that they thought was right. I can hardly blame an entire Jewish nation, and world-wide community, for an incident that occurred under very specific circumstances almost two thousand years ago.
Lent and Easter is also when I come to grips with one of the greatest ironies of ironies. I worship and honor my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ … who was Jewish. I’m not Jewish. And, yet, I devote my life to the veneration and exaltation of one who, when He walked this earth, lived the Jewish life. If I follow His teachings, though, I’m not Jewish.
I view that season of the year as a little divisive. Not a lot; just a little. Thankfully, on the other side of the year, the High Holy Days … Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur … occur. Why, you may ask, do I say “thankfully”?
This year, for the fourth time, I sit at the keyboard, at the Temple Beth Shalom to provide service music, along with members of the Annapolis Chamber Chorus, for their congregation on the holiest days of the Jewish year. For me, it is a place, a figurative place, where I, and other Christians, can meet the people of the Jewish faith. They have a need, and we are able to fulfill it. Nothing is said about differences. The differences are not what the High Holy Days are about. Not for them; not for us. It’s about caring. It’s about community. It’s about giving, imparting and offering.
Jewish composer Ernest Bloch was born in 1880 of Jewish-Swiss parents. He found his way to the United States by accepting an invitation to conduct the Maude Allen Dance Troupe on an extended tour through the US. Upon their arrival, however, they discovered that the troupe was bankrupt! Rather than consider himself stranded, he decided to stay in the US, becoming a professor at Mannes School of Music, and eventually becoming the Director of the Cleveland Institute of Music.
Mr. Bloch said, “It is the Jewish soul that interests me … it is the better part of me. It is this which I endeavor to transcribe in my music; the venerable soul of (our) race.” From this fire came “Hebrew Meditation”, “From Jewish Life” and “Nigun”.
Joshua Bell included a powerful three-movement work by Ernest Bloch entitled “Baal Shem – Three Pictures of Chasidic Life” on his 1997 album that featured Violin Concertos by Samuel Barber and William Walton. I bought the album for the Barber Violin Concerto. It’s fantastic. So is “Baal Shem”.
Credits: To Ernest Bloch, for staying in the United States. Like he had a choice. We’re glad you stayed anyway. Beautiful music. Shalom.
This is the twenty-third of my final forty-five CD's.
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