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medieval era) of both sexes in every Christian province and at all times shall be marked off in the eyes of the public from other peoples through the character of their dress.”4 Others joined to shame those whose beliefs would challenge the king.

In 1269, King Louis IX of France, later a catholic saint, decreed that French Jews must wear a round yellow badge on their breast and back. Followed in 1274, by Edward I of England, who enacted the Statute of Jewry, which denoted, each Jew, after seven years of age, should wear a distinguishing mark on an outer garment in the form of two tables joined, of yellow felt of the length of six inches and of the breadth of three inches. Neither the swastika nor the yellow patches are original inventions of the Nazi’s—nor is the hate and prejudice. They are blunt forces that only require a pointing figure, a way to identify the targets, willing warriors, and a propaganda machine to sell the message.

With hindsight, removing tyrants and dictators appears to be an earnest strategy, which democracies continue to advocate and enforce when it suits, but behind the rhetoric is a lesson still unlearned. Between 1618 and 1648, Europe entered a brutal conflict. Initially pitting Protestant states against catholic rivals, the conflict widened. The cause? Who would fill the void as the Holy Roman Empire crumbled. The removal of figures like Saddam Hussein, Gaddafi, and destabilization in Syria, Afghanistan, and Egypt, created another void for groups like ISIL. Like 17th century Christians, the conflict began by killing members of their own faith before spreading to other less desirable’s. Is their real aim to create an Islamic State led by religious authority or is it the same smokescreen employed by European countries during the Thirty Years war? An agenda, more about power and founding a mortal kingdom, than whose definition of a heavenly King should rule. ISIL has threatened another Holocaust against the Jews, vowing to raise their black flag in Jerusalem. Perhaps in their desire to create a Caliphate, they have forgotten many Caliphs from long ago were expert chess players, and to become masters of the board is not found by destruction or even winning—not in the sense we believe.

According to a survey by the World Chess Federation (FIDE), 600 million play chess regularly—more than followers of Buddhism, Sikhism, and Judaism, combined. Players are not seeking a religious experience, so what is the draw? (No pun intended)—Reasoning, planning, analysis, creativity, and critical thinking, all form part of the chess experience. A Chinese proverb says, “Life is like a game of chess, changing with each move,” and life and chess share problem solving as the beating heart that drives both games. But, what is the problem we need to solve? For chess players and seekers of life’s purpose or a heavenly kingdom, one eye is always on the most important piece—the king.

Chess is about the ability to recognize patterns and imagine all the possibilities. A battle of minds, not armies, it requires an understanding where survival hinges on sacrifice as much as boldness, so where do we find such skills?

Gary Kasparov’s father was an electrical engineer and both parents of the current world champion, Magnus Carlsen, are also engineers. Jews have been playing chess since the 12th century and of the first thirteen undisputed world champions over 50% were Jewish. Judit Polgár, the youngest Grandmaster in history (male or female), of Hungarian Jewish roots, is the strongest woman player of all time, holding the number one ranking for women players for 26 years. When Kasparov was asked about his religion in a 2007 Fox News interview with James Rosen, he replied, “I would call myself a Christian. Sort of self-appointed, but I am indifferent to that.” It doesn’t matter. Something in the history and genes of the Jewish people makes them expert chess players—so what could it be?

Of 22,000 games played between 1999 and 2002 by players with a FIDE Elo rating above 2,500 (Senior Master and Grandmaster), the most common result was a draw, with 55% ending in that outcome.5 Governments relish victory and to utter ‘mission accomplished,’ a reflection of correct policy and why the electorate made the right choice. But, of the games won, relatively few end with checkmate. On most occasions resignation occurs first. To capitulate is not always the end game, as it signifies the end of a battle, not necessarily the war. To understand chess we have to embrace survival, and none have faced more determined attempts at annihilation than the Jewish people.

As wanderers, so long without a homeland they have endured. Settlements always at risk and with no standing army, they repeatedly searched for a place beyond the long arm of persecution. Surviving the terrible onslaught of the Holocaust, Israel’s position remains isolated, surrounded by more enemies than friends. Perhaps they understand that winning in the chess of life is not about enforcing doctrine, conquering, nor destruction, but resigning to keeping faith with your king—no matter what.

Raised in the catholic minority of England, I might have a better feeling of the terrible obstacles Jewish people have faced if I had lived at another time. I may have become indifferent to some catholic teaching, but I am drawn to Mary as the Queen of Heaven (there is something very comforting about having a heavenly mother to stand by my king) and the saints, like the prophets of ancient times. Having extra help from those who have overcome is a comfort. St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582), the patron saint of chess players, wrote, “I hope you do not think I have written too much about this already; for I have only been placing the board, as they say. You have asked me to tell you about the first steps in prayer; although God did not lead me by them, my daughters I know no others, and even now I can hardly have acquired these elementary virtues. But you may be sure that anyone who cannot set out the pieces in a game of chess will never be able to play well, and, if he does not know how to give check, he will not be able to bring about a checkmate. Now you will reprove me for talking about games, as we do not play them in this house and are forbidden to do so. That will show you what kind of a mother God has given you — she even knows about vanities like this! However, they say that the game is sometimes legitimate. How legitimate it will be for us to play it in this way, and, if we play it frequently, how quickly we shall give checkmate to this Divine King! He will not be able to move out of our check nor will He desire to do so.”6

History can be a great teacher. It even repeats in some form, and yet, why are we such poor students? It’s “The $64 question,” a popular 1940’s American catchphrase, used for any difficult question or problem (it later morphed into the $64,000 Question game show in 1955). Coincidently or not, 64 is the number of squares on a chess board and as we each struggle to understand opponents thinking, the current game is once again setting a problem to solve. Creating instability provides a clear choice—do we kill and destroy for the mortal kingdom or trust and have faith in the heavenly King, so once again he can recognize his own.

When Innocent III and Martin Luther were not pursuing religious change, they played chess. It’s unknown how the game influenced their decision-making, for better or worse, and it’s not playing the game, but what we learn in the playing that matters the most. As I study the board, I am imagining the possibilities…praying for all sides that we don’t become cruel, but find the foresight to see that we all born of an engineer creator—who asks us to build in the spaces we move to.

My hand is on my king and my head is pounding. Once I release, I know there is no going back. I contemplate a prayer to St. Teresa, who is the patron saint of headaches as well as chess, when I remember a man who had a vision about a stairway to heaven. His name is Jacob (Yaqub in Arabic) and he is a patriarch of Islam and the Israelites. The dream occurred when he left the town of Beersheba, home to the most chess grandmasters per capita in the world. Perhaps there, studying engineering at the Ben Gurion University, is a Father or Mother, who can pass on a message through a child, to all faiths and those with none at all, that Jacob’s ladder is one we can all climb together without killing each other—an endgame that finishes with a draw for all.

We will never escape conflict and no matter how hard we work to find peaceful solutions, there are times when those who persecute, terrorize, and torture non-combatants will not listen. Our lives are a gift and in difficult circumstances we face a choice—either fight to defend our right to be here, or be willing to give up our lives non-violently. Perhaps that is why chess is so important, because by playing, we open ourselves to the possibility of finding peaceful outcomes.

“When he had not yet decided to devote himself to politics, and, as a twenty-year old without any plans for the future, was a drifter in Vienna, he frequented the chess cafes of that city, sitting there for entire nights. The game fascinated him so much that he feared it could, as it had so many others, totally absorb him, and take over his life. Therefore, he decided to break with it overnight.”7 The man’s name was Adolf Hitler.

THREE

Crisis in Middle Earth

AFTER AN ARDUOUS ADVENTURE, THE journey was finally over. With the ring destroyed in Mount Doom, we rejoiced, the evil banished to the depths could never rise again. Along the way, we encountered a wise wizard; mystical elves, a dashing king; enough champions to cheer on, and they were just the supporting cast. For Tolkien, gave us Frodo and his hobbit friends—the very small ground dwellers with large feet and even bigger appetites. They were the real heroes he chose.

We love an underdog. Being small and a hero in any world, real or imagined, is no easy matter, but such bravery seemed beyond my comprehension. I would need to look elsewhere to find myself in the story. The swashbuckling Aragorn appealed, apart from his constant unwashed hair, as did the magic tricks of Gandalf and the pluck of Gimli the dwarf, but to imagine myself, as one of them would be an even greater stretch. I was out of characters...except for one...Sméagol: the nasty bulgy eyed creature, for whom an average day consisted of eating raw fish, scheming, and talking to a sparkling gold ring in a dark cave. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but like Sméagol, the middle-aged man with little

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