//politics//
Fall 2019
Fall 2019
Olam Chesed Yibaneh
Alan Imar
Olam Chesed Yibaneh
I will build this world from love
And you must build this world from love
And if we build this world from love
Then God will build this world from love
I first heard “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” on a Friday night in synagogue some years ago. In January 2018, I taught the song for the first time. Back then, I was the president of my youth group, and there was a tradition that the regional president teach a new song during seuda shlishit, the third Sabbath meal when Jews sing in Hebrew. It wasn’t until my friend, Hannah Weiss, and her family passed away that I knew what song I would teach—Olam Chesed Yibaneh [1]. It embodied my friend Hannah’s personality well: Hannah’s activism responded to composer Rabbi Menachem Creditor’s call-to-action. In fact, the last time I spoke to Hannah, she was returning from a Hazon conference, an organization that encourages Jewish sustainable living. In thinking about how the song resonated Hannah’s memory for me, I wanted to better understand the song’s story.
The song is quite popular. Creditor originally wanted to compose a song for his daughter’s simchat bat (a celebration of his daughter's birth) which was about a month after the Twin Towers fell. But he had one problem: the music never came. In a month of mixed feelings for many—hatred, fear, sorrow—what message could he leave his daughter? During an early-autumn stroll down Broadway, the smell and debris of the collapsed towers still somewhat fresh, and his daughter cradled in his arms, the song swelled up inside of him, said Creditor. First, a melody; then, from Creditor’s mouth emerged the verse in tandem with the tune. It came naturally to him.
The English poem is noteworthy—it’s a commentary, in its own right, on the psalm from which it’s adapted. The Jewish Publication Society Tanakh, a commonly accepted Bible in Jewish circles, translates the verse and its preceding one:
“I will sing of the LORD’s steadfast love forever; to all generations I will proclaim Your faithfulness with my mouth. I declare, 'Your steadfast love is confirmed forever; there in the heavens You establish Your faithfulness.’” [2]
Two things immediately stick out. First, as Creditor admits, he changed the context of the verse: in the original God is the one with the agency to love. But in Creditor’s rendition, we humans are agents. What’s more, Creditor translates the Hebrew word olam as world; but, traditional translations interpret olam, in this context, to mean "forever." Thus, the verse is no longer about an abstract divine vision but rather a call for grounded, human love.
The song sung today is the same as the rendition born on the street but with one exception. When he first recorded the song, he closed his eyes and began to sing. First the nigun: “ya dai dai…” Then, the Hebrew. But what followed was an act of artistic spontaneity. He imagined the towers falling, the dust darkened his vision. Walking down Broadway, his baby daughter laying in his arms once more. The tears flowed as the towers collapsed. From the rubble emerged the words, “and you must build this world from love.” Originally written to read “and you will build this world from love,” Creditor swapped will with must. Why did he do this?
“There was an urgency that coursed through me,” he said. “Building this world from love isn’t a choice we get to make, it’s an obligation to see this world as worth it and to see every human being as a partner in making that happen.”
A fellow rabbi told him “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” was sung at the North American Jewish Choral Festival. Then, song leaders from all over started singing it, followed by the Jewish Renewal Movement. Neshama Carlebach, daughter of the late Jewish music maestro Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, sang it at the gates of Auschwitz and then at a music festival in Japan. Eventually people began making covering the song. The song’s increasing traction pleasantly surprised Creditor.
It has since become his most famous work, a “Jewish anthem” as he calls it. A broad range of organizations and communities have taken up the song — groups such as IfNotNow, Hazon, and the Union for Reform Judaism. It has appeared at vigils, including those held for the 2018 shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue, and rallies like those at ICE detention centers on Tisha B’av this summer. In February 2018, protestors during the debate over Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals sung “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” on Capitol Hill — the group included non-Jews too.
“I sang this song along with 81 other Jewish activists, allies, and rabbis as we were arrested at the Capitol for the Dream Act,” Rabbi Jason Kimelman-Block, Washington Director of Bend the Arc: Jewish Action, wrote in a blog post. “I watched with tears in my eyes as young immigrants, and allies sang these same words before their own arrest,” he reflected about a protest that took place three weeks after his own [3].
The song has become a cry for action.
But the many invocations of the song have not come without tension. For example, Creditor was ordained as a rabbi at the Jewish Theological Seminary and he served at a Conservative synagogue for ten years. He left his modest pulpit to devote more time to pro-Israel causes, among other things [4]. The American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), an organization consistently under fire from some activists for its stances, made him their progressive poster figure; he addressed the AIPAC Policy Conference, the largest gathering of American Zionists, in 2016. And in an op-ed entitled “What to do as a Progressive AIPAC Supporter?” he wrote, “I am a progressive American rabbi who loves Israel with every fiber of my body.”
Despite his views on Israel, groups who would staunchly oppose some of his politics do not hesitate to take up his song. For example, it’s no secret that IfNotNow, an organization whose mission is to “end the occupation,” is far from AIPAC on the political spectrum. The organization’s own Twitter header photo is a banner that proclaims “Reject AIPAC.” But, its members have sung the AIPAC rabbi’s “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” at their rallies — in one tweet, IfNotNow wrote “Olam chesed yibaneh! We will build this world from love! #JewishResistance #AgainstHate #For Love.” What’s more, Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP), an organization that decries Zionism, sings his song [5].
In an ironic episode, Creditor recalls that during the AIPAC Policy Conference in 2016, he led havdalah, the service that ends the Sabbath, on Saturday night. He sang “Olam Chesed Yibaneh.” Simultaneously, protestors outside sang the song too. It wasn’t until later, when he spoke with a friend who had been outside that Creditor discovered the parallel. Many of his activist friends were upset about the simultaneous usage. They asked him why he hadn’t sung with them outside.
“I said to them … we are both singing the same song. Can’t you see that there is a place for this song inside [AIPAC’s work]?” Creditor told me. He added: “There have been moments where AIPAC’s decisions — just like any organization’s decisions — aren’t ones that I would’ve made myself, but this song is about building this world from love, not rejecting it for the mistakes it makes.”
When groups like IfNotNow and JVP sing his song without hesitation, what does that mean to Creditor? He thinks it brings the views into conversation with each other.
“Art is bigger than the artist, and this music is bigger than one political stance. IfNotNow’s use of this music involves my politics in their conversation,” Creditor said. “I hope in my heart of hearts, that they understand that the beauty of the music is not distinct from the way that I see the world. There has to be a way for the music to serve as a bridge between people who disagree.”
Even so, Creditor disagrees with how these Israel groups involve themselves in the discourse. He believes that their protest is out of touch with the song’s message. To that end, he imagines a circle of dialogue, outside of which IfNotNow and JVP intentionally stand. “Olam Chesed,” however, intends to make people stand within the circle, within a connected world in need of love. But, Creditor still hopes groups along the political spectrum can overcome the present divide.
“Navigating this complicated political moment requires people of different political persuasion to come together, and I hope, I pray, that there are a lot of ways, including a song,” to speak out against rhetoric of hate.
From the Women’s March to Capitol Hill, vigils to religious services and the like, “Olam Chesed” has made a profound impact on the faith communities. But how can we really determine what the song has accomplished? That, Creditor thinks, one cannot measure. He does know, however, that it has surpassed its intimate debut at his daughter’s simchat bat.
But there is still much work to be done, much love to bring into a world that abounds with hate. Creditor concluded: “What makes a prayer successful? When it doesn’t need to be there anymore. The fact that we’re still singing indicates there’s still a need. But the fact that we’re still singing indicates that we haven’t stopped trying either.”
I will build this world from love
And you must build this world from love
And if we build this world from love
Then God will build this world from love
I first heard “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” on a Friday night in synagogue some years ago. In January 2018, I taught the song for the first time. Back then, I was the president of my youth group, and there was a tradition that the regional president teach a new song during seuda shlishit, the third Sabbath meal when Jews sing in Hebrew. It wasn’t until my friend, Hannah Weiss, and her family passed away that I knew what song I would teach—Olam Chesed Yibaneh [1]. It embodied my friend Hannah’s personality well: Hannah’s activism responded to composer Rabbi Menachem Creditor’s call-to-action. In fact, the last time I spoke to Hannah, she was returning from a Hazon conference, an organization that encourages Jewish sustainable living. In thinking about how the song resonated Hannah’s memory for me, I wanted to better understand the song’s story.
The song is quite popular. Creditor originally wanted to compose a song for his daughter’s simchat bat (a celebration of his daughter's birth) which was about a month after the Twin Towers fell. But he had one problem: the music never came. In a month of mixed feelings for many—hatred, fear, sorrow—what message could he leave his daughter? During an early-autumn stroll down Broadway, the smell and debris of the collapsed towers still somewhat fresh, and his daughter cradled in his arms, the song swelled up inside of him, said Creditor. First, a melody; then, from Creditor’s mouth emerged the verse in tandem with the tune. It came naturally to him.
The English poem is noteworthy—it’s a commentary, in its own right, on the psalm from which it’s adapted. The Jewish Publication Society Tanakh, a commonly accepted Bible in Jewish circles, translates the verse and its preceding one:
“I will sing of the LORD’s steadfast love forever; to all generations I will proclaim Your faithfulness with my mouth. I declare, 'Your steadfast love is confirmed forever; there in the heavens You establish Your faithfulness.’” [2]
Two things immediately stick out. First, as Creditor admits, he changed the context of the verse: in the original God is the one with the agency to love. But in Creditor’s rendition, we humans are agents. What’s more, Creditor translates the Hebrew word olam as world; but, traditional translations interpret olam, in this context, to mean "forever." Thus, the verse is no longer about an abstract divine vision but rather a call for grounded, human love.
The song sung today is the same as the rendition born on the street but with one exception. When he first recorded the song, he closed his eyes and began to sing. First the nigun: “ya dai dai…” Then, the Hebrew. But what followed was an act of artistic spontaneity. He imagined the towers falling, the dust darkened his vision. Walking down Broadway, his baby daughter laying in his arms once more. The tears flowed as the towers collapsed. From the rubble emerged the words, “and you must build this world from love.” Originally written to read “and you will build this world from love,” Creditor swapped will with must. Why did he do this?
“There was an urgency that coursed through me,” he said. “Building this world from love isn’t a choice we get to make, it’s an obligation to see this world as worth it and to see every human being as a partner in making that happen.”
A fellow rabbi told him “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” was sung at the North American Jewish Choral Festival. Then, song leaders from all over started singing it, followed by the Jewish Renewal Movement. Neshama Carlebach, daughter of the late Jewish music maestro Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, sang it at the gates of Auschwitz and then at a music festival in Japan. Eventually people began making covering the song. The song’s increasing traction pleasantly surprised Creditor.
It has since become his most famous work, a “Jewish anthem” as he calls it. A broad range of organizations and communities have taken up the song — groups such as IfNotNow, Hazon, and the Union for Reform Judaism. It has appeared at vigils, including those held for the 2018 shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue, and rallies like those at ICE detention centers on Tisha B’av this summer. In February 2018, protestors during the debate over Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals sung “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” on Capitol Hill — the group included non-Jews too.
“I sang this song along with 81 other Jewish activists, allies, and rabbis as we were arrested at the Capitol for the Dream Act,” Rabbi Jason Kimelman-Block, Washington Director of Bend the Arc: Jewish Action, wrote in a blog post. “I watched with tears in my eyes as young immigrants, and allies sang these same words before their own arrest,” he reflected about a protest that took place three weeks after his own [3].
The song has become a cry for action.
But the many invocations of the song have not come without tension. For example, Creditor was ordained as a rabbi at the Jewish Theological Seminary and he served at a Conservative synagogue for ten years. He left his modest pulpit to devote more time to pro-Israel causes, among other things [4]. The American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), an organization consistently under fire from some activists for its stances, made him their progressive poster figure; he addressed the AIPAC Policy Conference, the largest gathering of American Zionists, in 2016. And in an op-ed entitled “What to do as a Progressive AIPAC Supporter?” he wrote, “I am a progressive American rabbi who loves Israel with every fiber of my body.”
Despite his views on Israel, groups who would staunchly oppose some of his politics do not hesitate to take up his song. For example, it’s no secret that IfNotNow, an organization whose mission is to “end the occupation,” is far from AIPAC on the political spectrum. The organization’s own Twitter header photo is a banner that proclaims “Reject AIPAC.” But, its members have sung the AIPAC rabbi’s “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” at their rallies — in one tweet, IfNotNow wrote “Olam chesed yibaneh! We will build this world from love! #JewishResistance #AgainstHate #For Love.” What’s more, Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP), an organization that decries Zionism, sings his song [5].
In an ironic episode, Creditor recalls that during the AIPAC Policy Conference in 2016, he led havdalah, the service that ends the Sabbath, on Saturday night. He sang “Olam Chesed Yibaneh.” Simultaneously, protestors outside sang the song too. It wasn’t until later, when he spoke with a friend who had been outside that Creditor discovered the parallel. Many of his activist friends were upset about the simultaneous usage. They asked him why he hadn’t sung with them outside.
“I said to them … we are both singing the same song. Can’t you see that there is a place for this song inside [AIPAC’s work]?” Creditor told me. He added: “There have been moments where AIPAC’s decisions — just like any organization’s decisions — aren’t ones that I would’ve made myself, but this song is about building this world from love, not rejecting it for the mistakes it makes.”
When groups like IfNotNow and JVP sing his song without hesitation, what does that mean to Creditor? He thinks it brings the views into conversation with each other.
“Art is bigger than the artist, and this music is bigger than one political stance. IfNotNow’s use of this music involves my politics in their conversation,” Creditor said. “I hope in my heart of hearts, that they understand that the beauty of the music is not distinct from the way that I see the world. There has to be a way for the music to serve as a bridge between people who disagree.”
Even so, Creditor disagrees with how these Israel groups involve themselves in the discourse. He believes that their protest is out of touch with the song’s message. To that end, he imagines a circle of dialogue, outside of which IfNotNow and JVP intentionally stand. “Olam Chesed,” however, intends to make people stand within the circle, within a connected world in need of love. But, Creditor still hopes groups along the political spectrum can overcome the present divide.
“Navigating this complicated political moment requires people of different political persuasion to come together, and I hope, I pray, that there are a lot of ways, including a song,” to speak out against rhetoric of hate.
From the Women’s March to Capitol Hill, vigils to religious services and the like, “Olam Chesed” has made a profound impact on the faith communities. But how can we really determine what the song has accomplished? That, Creditor thinks, one cannot measure. He does know, however, that it has surpassed its intimate debut at his daughter’s simchat bat.
But there is still much work to be done, much love to bring into a world that abounds with hate. Creditor concluded: “What makes a prayer successful? When it doesn’t need to be there anymore. The fact that we’re still singing indicates there’s still a need. But the fact that we’re still singing indicates that we haven’t stopped trying either.”
[1] Hannah was a student in the GS/JTS Joint Program. Read more about her: https://www.columbiaspectator.com/news/2018/01/01/general-studies-student-hannah-weiss-among-12-killed-in-costa-rica-plane-crash/
[2] The King James Version reads, “For I have said, Mercy shall be built up for ever: thy faithfulness shalt thou establish in the very heavens.”
[3] https://www.bendthearc.us/this_is_letmypeoplestay
[4] https://www.jweekly.com/2017/09/08/rabbi-menachem-creditor-announces-will-leave-netivot-2018/
[5] https://jewishvoiceforpeace.org/zionism/, https://twitter.com/JVPPhilly/status/928375638242877440
//ALAN IMAR is a sophomore at Jewish Theological Seminary and the School of General Studies and serves as Deputy Politics Editor for The Current. He can be reached at [email protected].
Photo Courtesy of Gill Getz, New York Magazine
Photo Courtesy of Gill Getz, New York Magazine