The Jewish people have always had an interesting relationship with the Olympics. In the year 776 BCE the ancient Olympic
Games were founded by (the Roman) Heracles, dedicated to the Olympian
gods, with naked athletes highlighting their physical prowess and
celebrating their victories by lighting a torch in the pagan temple of
Zeus. Antithetical to the Jewish influence in the world at that time, things came to a head when those same Greek and Roman empires fought wars to ensure that the Menorah which was lit daily in our holy Temple in Jerusalem be extinguished.
In
1936 in Berlin, Germany, forty years after the games were revived by a
young Frenchmen named Pierre de Courbertin, these games once again
represented a clash between the pagan-inspired Adolph Hitler and the
people of the Menorah, as Hitler used
that platform to unleash an agenda of hatred and anti-semitism to the
entire world.
Less than forty years later, in 1972 in Munich, Germany, after 11 Jewish athletes were captured and
killed in a shootout between German police and Arab terrorists, the
decision that "the games must go on" reminded the world that our
mission to spread the peaceful light of the Menorah to the entire world had not yet been realized.
This past Friday night (forty years later!)
the Olympic games began in London, England. Fascinating as it is, that
night just happened to be the saddest day of the year on the Jewish
calendar, Tisha B'av.
Much to the chagrin of many fans, NBC made a
decision not to air that opening ceremony live. And
there was another major event that didn't get enough press coverage
either, in my opinion. On Wednesday night, more than 90,000 Jewish spectators,
packed into MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, home of the New York
Jets and the New York Giants, for the 12th Siyum HaShas, to cheer on the
accomplishments of those “gold medalists" who managed to complete
the study of the entire Talmud, one page a day, day in day out, over the course of 7½
years.
While there was nobody on
a
podium with a gold medal around his neck, there was a lot of passion
and joy as we celebrated Jewish unity and passed the brilliant torch of
the Menorah to the next generation of proud Jews, celebrating as a new
cycle of the lifeblood of
the Jewish people began all over again.
