My son and I met in Paris the morning of Nov. 13, walked the charming streets, visited the Picasso and Pompidou museums, then went to synagogue at the Mouvement Juif Libéral de France, one of the most vibrant Reform synagogues in Paris.
Rabbi Delphine Horvilleur, a respected French journalist and graduate of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in New York, who had been my student about a decade ago, presided over a full house of committed French Jews who sang with spirit and prayed with intensity. We enjoyed the familiar liturgy set to unfamiliar tunes, the two young people getting ready for their b’nai mitzvah in the morning and the warm welcome of the congregation. Aside from the heavily armed soldiers out front, a staple in European synagogues for a long time, and the mental workout of comprehending a sermon given in French, it felt very much like home.
From there we went to Rabbi Horvilleur’s apartment in the Marais, the historic Jewish district, for Shabbat dinner. We made blessings, ate delicious food, sang songs and caught up with cherished friends. As usual, our phones were left untended out of respect for the peace of the Sabbath.
Alas, such an idyllic Sabbath peace was not to be. First my son’s phone began vibrating wildly, and after this went on worryingly, he checked it. It was then we learned of one attack, then another, and still more. Friends of his at the stadium watching the France-Germany soccer match wrote of hearing explosions, attempting to evacuate, being held in place.
Soon the awful details of a night of unspeakable atrocity began to become clear. Restaurants became scenes of carnage, a concert hall the site of a hostage crisis and, later, a heinous massacre. French President Francois Hollande asked everyone to shelter in place as police and security forces tried to respond to multiple incidents. The streets were eerily empty. There were endless texts and emails among friends and family looking for loved ones, most of them answered — some tragically not.
The next day, when the congregants gathered again, they celebrated the two b’nai mitzvah with all their might, because terrorism simply cannot be permitted to win. The strength of such an action speaks volumes about the Jewish community of France. But when they recited the prayer for the French nation, their sadness was profound and their sobbing audible.
When we walked the streets on Shabbat afternoon, we came across many reminders of the tragedy. Closed were stores, museums, educational institutions and government buildings. Signs everywhere proclaimed three days of national mourning and cancellations of events. Outside hospitals, donors lined up to give blood. Small memorial gatherings arose, with participants lighting candles and singing “La Marseillaise,” France’s national anthem. The names of victims started to trickle out. And the names of the perpetrators, too. Hope and fear walked hand in hand with us on those streets.
Over the past two decades, I have watched as a plane hit the World Trade Center. I have listened from a few blocks away as bombs detonated in cafés in Jerusalem. And now, I have lived through a night of deep evil in the streets of Paris. I know that the depths of our mourning over yet more senseless and heartbreaking loss of life eventually will be lifted. Peace-loving as I try to be, it is at times like these that I yearn for a powerful, just and decisive response. I am aware this is not simple, but given the awful circumstances and the dangerous potential for future violent acts, it now seems vital.
I hope the Western world will have the strength to take difficult but necessary action in the days and months ahead. When the time is right, I also hope that God, of whom Psalm 30:11 speaks, will “turn our mourning into dancing and remove the sackcloth and clothe us,” once again, “with joy.” In the meantime, though, may the memory of those innocent individuals whose lives were brutally taken be a blessing to humanity and our community. May their families find comfort, and may they rest in peace.
Rabbi Aaron D. Panken is the president of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. This piece was distributed by JTA.