"In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God." Aeschylus

Today, Memorial Day in the US, we began our tour at the military cemetery at Mount Herzl. Sculpted out of the ancient terraces of the tribe of Judah, overlooking the valleys to the south and east, the cemetery begs a reverence I seldom have known. Instead of the rows upon rows of monuments expanding toward the horizon one finds at Arlington National Cemetery, here the burial plots are arranged in small, beautifully landscaped terraces. The small graves are raised aboveground with limestone and the burial site is planted with flowers. Trees around the perimeter block the views of the other terraces, providing an intimate encounter with the fallen. Only those who died on active duty are buried here. The only exceptions are a few of Israel's leaders - like Golda Meir and Yitzhak Rabin. I still remember that awful day in November 1995 when a deranged Ultra-Orthodox Jew assassinated Rabin - a day of horror like the day Anwar Sadat was shot by his own people. I placed a stone and a few tears on Rabin's grave.

There are so many emotions deepening in me today, but the one that keeps conquering is sorrow. How so many could have been mobilized to murder millions challenges if not indicts my belief in an abiding and uniting humanity and our inherent worth and diginity. I am speaking of course of the Holocaust.

The Yad Vashem is the Israeli complex that commemorates the Holocaust. Just a few hundred meters from the Cemetery, Yad Vashem gets its name from Isaiah 56, "For I will give them in my house and in my walls Yad Vashem" (a place and a name). Once again, language teaches us much. The word "yad" originally meant 'hand.' To raise one's hand is to say "I am here", "this is my place." That is why memorials stand tall, to say, "here I am, come learn my name, and my story, and remember." The monuments and exhibits are far too numerous to mention (check them out here: http://www.yadvashem.org/).

Yad Vashem has a garden that contains trees and plaques proclaiming the "Righteous Among the Nations." These are the gentiles who risked their lives, families and fortunes fighting the Nazis. Many nations have several hundred names. The USA has only 3. The most heartening thing was to find the names of Martha and Reverend Waitstill Sharp, Unitarians from Wellesley, Massachusetts (http://www1.yadvashem.org/righteous_new/usa/sharp.html). The history of the USA's indifference to the plight of the Jews during this time is shameful, but that is another sermon.

The sheer scale of slaughter, knowing that what happened from 1933 - 1945 was the work of millions of people, not just a small group of lunatics, focuses us on the need to be vigilant against nascent genocide and hatred everywhere in the world. We have a moral duty to speak out against such hatred, and we have a political responsibility as the world's major superpower to do all we can to stop it before it happens anywhere ever again. The power we have inherited does not allow us to look the other way nor to do nothing. It is telling that the Israelis feel this too. The Yad Vashem includes exhibits on the Armenian Genocide, as well as the one is Darfur.

From there we went to the Israel Museum (http://www.english.imjnet.org.il/htmls/home.aspx). We were given a great lesson on the various different settlements of Jerusalem by our guide using the 1/50 scale model (made by hand out of limestone!). It was fascinating to see how the city developed again and again through history.

These hills of Jerusalem are magical. They tell the tale of humankind's striving with faith, technology, politics and power. It is a great gift that we can come here and learn in the very footsteps of the ancients. Perhaps you and I can return one day and see it together. I must say I never anticipated the impact that seeing it firsthand would produce, but one must come here to begin to understand the myriad complications of all the faith claims and holy sites and ways of life, to feel and sense how difficult it is to share such a small piece of real estate that has eternal consequences for so many.

In reference to the special spiritual nature of Jerusalem, Rabbi Yossi Klein Halevi, speaking to Krista Tippet on her show Being, shared his love of the Celtic image of the 'thin places,' where the veil between the temporal and the eternal has worn thin. Yet he says in Jerusalem the eternal is more like seeping and flowing than simply wearing the veil thin. Now we must find how to channel that flow, to present the world with a better way of honoring this divine gift, of assisting those who are the current stewards of this place to see themselves as but three manifestations of divine presence, and to make room for one another and for the others who will follow (http://being.publicradio.org/programs/2011/thin-places-thick-realities/transcript.shtml).

As much as many of us would like to run away from this tradition, from this squabbling mess, we are charged to engage it. Jerusalem is an ancient origin of Unitarian Universalism. Jerusalem is a holy site that can still inspire believers and non-believers alike. And it remains at the center of many of our current political and military concerns, many hampering our desire to make our own nation the most it could be because we are obliged to find a solution to this mess that we did not create. We are asked to honor the millions slaughtered by securing a future for Israel that includes access to this amazing city in the hills, with its earnest religious people and its climate like southern California. May we find ways to honor the fallen and to ensure that as few as possible will fall in the future to such violence, be it religious or political.

As I sign off tonight I see the celebrations underway for Jerusalem Day, commemorating the day in 1967 when Yitzhak Rabin charged his troops into East Jerusalem and placed it under Israeli control. A happy day for Israelis, perhaps not so for Palestinians. And so we march into tomorrow, hopefully with gracious spirits and glad hearts, and may the good people of this great land craft a strong and lasting way of peace out of this darkness. So May it be.

Shalom,

Rev Scott