SERMON FOR FIRST EVENING OF ROSH HASHANAH 5774/2013

TAKE HIM DOWN

I’m sure you’ve heard this one: It’s the High Holidays in an old shtiebel in Eastern Europe and the chazzan is pouring his heart out before the open ark, beating his breast and chanting,”Oy, avinu bashmayim, Gott in Himmel, I am nothing, I am nothing, I am nothing….”

The rabbi standing next to him on the bima is so moved that he joins in the act, himself chanting “O God, hakadosh barukh hu, I am nothing, I am nothing, I am nothing….

Then the shul president is so taken that he too starts chanting “I am nothing, I am nothing…”

They’re all going at it when another plaintive wail is heard from the rear of the hall where the shammus (the building custodian) is so moved that he starts chanting and beating his breast davenning passionately, “O Lord, I am nothing, I am nothing…

And the guys on the bima give each other a side glance, roll their eyes and mutter – “Hmmmh! Look who thinks he’s nothing!”

*******************

I think for Bernie Bernstein and Stan Segal that joke would have been “number 58”

****************

Oh --- there are so many ways in which that joke is so politically incorrect --- but it’s still a surefire way to get a laugh because it plays up some of the mixed up messages of the High Holidays.

****************

And by mixed up messages – I mean that in a good way….

What are these mixed messages? On the one hand – These are the Yamim Nora’im/ The Days of Awe – And yes, the noun yirah [יראה] and the related adjective nora[נורא] – mean both “awe” AND “fear” --- 2 English concepts -- but one Hebrew concept that embraces both.

There’s a real seriousness to our gathering together. We stand in judgment before God and before our own consciences --- knowing full well that we have not lived up to the potential of what we COULD have accomplished since Rosh Hashanah 5773 to bring love, healing and justice to our fellow creatures and to our world. Tradition refers to Rosh Hashanah as “Yom Ha-Din” – the “Day of Judgement” – and midrash imagines a celestial book in which we --- through our own deeds --- inscribe our own fates. As the piyyut Unetaneh Tokef declares ---- Vitiftach et sefer hazichronot umeyalav yikarei vechotam yad kawl adam bo.” “God opens the Book of Memories, and it speaks for itself, for each person, by his or her deeds, has inscribed it with their own hand.”

But -- on the other hand – these Days of Fear and Trembling are also Days of Hope and Promise: Rosh Hashanah is the birthday of the world and the re-coronation ceremony for its Divine Sovereign. A time for us to be thankful to be together with one another; a time to have hope for the future; a time for returning to our better selves.

As we are taught by the Prophet Jeremiah in the haftarah for the second day of Rosh Hashanah ---

טו כֹּ֣ה ׀ אָמַ֣ר יְהוָ֗ה מִנְעִ֤י קוֹלֵךְ֙ מִבֶּ֔כִי וְעֵינַ֖יִךְ מִדִּמְעָ֑ה כִּי֩ יֵ֨שׁ שָׂכָ֤ר לִפְעֻלָּתֵךְ֙ נְאֻם־יְהוָ֔ה וְשָׁ֖בוּ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ אוֹיֵֽב׃

Thus says the Eternal: Take away the weeping from your voice, the tears from your eyes; for there is a reward for your labor, declares the Eternal, [Rachel’s children] will return from the land of the enemy. (Jer. 31:16).

To anticipate rebirth and renewal ----- Even when the trees are poised soon to shed their leaves and the birds will soon migrate to warmer climes --- and the days will soon grow short --- and the winds will soon blow cold -- that’s what hope is about.

But back to the fear and trembling: The words of the Hineni prayer, which I sang before the open ark a little while ago, set that mood: Hineni he’awni mima’as, nirash venifchad, mipachad-yoshev-tehilot-yisra’el (“Here I am, poor in deeds, trembling and apprehensive in fear of the One who dwells amid the praises of Israel.”) Bati la’amod ulehitchanen lafanekha al amkha yisra’el asher shelachuni, af al pi she eyni kheday vehagun lechakh. (“I have come to stand before you to plead for your people Israel who have delegated me, though I am neither fit nor worthy…..”)

In other words – I am nothing, I am nothing, I am nothing ----

We’ll all have our chance come Yom Kippur to beat our breasts over and over again – Ashamnu, Bagadnu, Gazalnu, Dibarnu Dofi ---- We have sinned, we have betrayed, we have robbed, we have deceived….. And we will ask:

What harm have we done by our actions?

What healing have we failed to do by our failure to act?

As Jews, we can certainly be hypercritical of ourselves and hyper-vigilant about the injustices in the world. But we also cultivate hope and confidence that we can bring about better days.

The words of the Aleinu --- which originated as a Rosh Hashanah prayer but since the time of the Crusades has been part of every Jewish prayer service – envisions a world in which idolatry has been swept away “letaken olam bemalchut shaddai”/ “in order to bring tikkun olam – repair of the world – under the sovereignty of the Almighty.”

This hope --- this faith in the possibility of a world of justice and compassion in which all are individual yet all are one ---- sustains us even in the face of loss.

And indeed, this is a time of year when our losses, both recent and long ago, stir our hearts. Rosh Hashanah itself is also known as “Yom Hazikaron”/ “The Day of Remembrance” and “zikaron”/ “remembrance” --- with the root letters zayin-kaf-resh [זכר] – is related to the word “Yizkor” which means “May [God] Remember”). So our dead are in our thoughts and our hearts not just when we recite Yizkor on Yom Kippur afternoon, but on Rosh Hashanah and the days in between as well.

And yes, I know that for those who have experienced profound loss, those losses may be in our thoughts and hearts every day of the year.

But still, this time of year is when we try to put it all into context --- the cycle of life goes on its inevitable course. And so Psalm 27, traditionally recited throughout Elul and up through Yom Kippur – declares ---

י כִּי-אָבִי וְאִמִּי עֲזָבוּנִי; וַיהוָה יַאַסְפֵנִי.	10 though my father and my mother have abandoned me, Adonai will take me in. […]
יג לוּלֵא--הֶאֱמַנְתִּי, לִרְאוֹת בְּטוּב-יְהוָה: בְּאֶרֶץ חַיִּים.	13 If I had not believed that I would see the goodness of the Eternal in the land of the living!--
יד קַוֵּה, אֶל-יְהוָה: חֲזַק, וְיַאֲמֵץ לִבֶּךָ; וְקַוֵּה, אֶל-יְהוָה.	14 So, hope in the Eternal; be strong, and let your heart take courage; and hope in the Eternal.

******************************************

Hineni.

Here Am I!

Each and every one us searches for a way to make that declaration within our own heart. It’s the essential response to the first question posed by God in the Torah. God’s existential question to Adam in the Garden of Eden in Genesis 3:9

“Ayeka?” / “Where are you?”

Adam hesitates and obfuscates but ultimately learns (as must each of us) that we must strive for self-knowledge. We must be able to answer --- Hineni! / Here I am! –

On a personal level, my own “Hineni” (“Here I am”) – my own personal answer to the question “Ayeka?” (“Where are you?) --- is that I feel a growing sense of rootedness in this community.

I’m grateful for the confidence that Temple Israel has shown in me in entering into a five-year contract renewal agreement with me.

I feel an ever-deepening sense of gratitude in my life for the opportunity for us to grow together in spirit and to accompany one another on our Jewish journeys.

And I feel blessed by your support during the personal life transitions that I was experiencing in the past year.

That’s where I am tonight as I speak to you from this bima.

Hineni.

**************************

And what does “Hineni”/ Here I am” mean in your life right now? Right now --- how do you --- in the depths of your soul --- answer the fundamental question: “Ayeka?” “Where are you?”

Wherever you are – emotionally, medically, financially, psychologically, spiritually – know that just as we learn that the angel told Hagar – אַל־תִּ֣ירְאִ֔י כִּֽי־שָׁמַ֧ע אֱלֹהִ֛ים אֶל־ק֥וֹל הַנַּ֖עַר בַּֽאֲשֶׁ֥ר הוּא־שָֽׁם /Al tiri – Ki Shama Elohim et kol hana’ar ba’asher hu sham/ “Do not fear! -- For God has hear the voice of the lad where he is.”…

So too do we have faith that God hears each of our voices – where we are.

***************************************

Mixed messages: Even in these Days of Awe and Fear and Trembling and Judgment --- We also know NOT to fear… and NOT to doubt in the power of repentance and return – the power of teshuva – to recalibrate our path for the new year.

**********************************

That solemn declaration --- הנני/“Hineni”/ “Here I am” --- appears several times in the Torah.

Moses responds “Hineni” when God calls to him from the Burning Bush (Ex. 3:4). Joseph answers “Hineni” when his father Jacob calls upon him to go on a fateful journey to check up on his jealous brothers. (Ex. 37:13)

But on Rosh Hashanah, it’s most likely that the first Biblical “Hineni” that comes to our minds is Abrahams’ “Hineni” in the story of Akedat Yitzchak – “The Binding of Isaac” -- which we read on the Second Morning of Rosh Hashanah. This is a disturbing tale that opens in a chillingly understated way:

וַיְהִי, אַחַר הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה, וְהָאֱלֹהִים, נִסָּה אֶת-אַבְרָהָם; וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו, אַבְרָהָם וַיֹּאמֶר הִנֵּנִי.

“Some time afterward, God put Abraham to the test, saying “Abraham!” – and he said: ‘Hineni’ – ‘Here I am.’” (Gen. 22:1).

I’ve always had problems relating to that story. Who wouldn’t? Remember our hometown troubador Bob Dylan’s take on it?

Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son"
Abe says, "Man, you must be puttin' me on"
God say, "No." Abe say, "What ?"
God say, "You can do what you want Abe, but
The next time you see me comin' you better run"
Well Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done ?"
God says. "Out on Highway 61".

Or, even more starkly, we have the words of Wilfred Owen, the young English poet who fought and died in World War I. In his poem “The Parable of the Old Man and the Young”, famously set to music by Benjamin Britten in his “War Requiem,” Owens writes:

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,

And took the fire with him, and a knife.

And as they sojourned both of them together,

Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,

Behold the preparations, fire and iron,

But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?

Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,

and builded parapets and trenches there,

And stretchèd forth the knife to slay his son.

When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,

Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,

Neither do anything to him. Behold,

A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;

Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,

And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

Wilfred Owen’s question: When does zeal for a cause turn into murderous obsession? --- is one that haunts us to this day.

My own take on the Akedah is that Abraham failed God’s test. I think the point of the story is that God wanted to test Abraham to see if Abraham could think for himself. To see if this ardent believer had truly absorbed the ultimate lesson of all true spirituality which is this ---- CHOOSE LIFE.

But Abraham gets it wrong -- He is poised to choose death. Blind obedience has become more important to him than clear-eyed compassion. He has crossed the line.

So God understands that this trial has to be cancelled -- and sends an angel who calls out again to Abraham – this time not just once but twice “Avraham, Avraham” --- to call off this macabre spectacle.

************************

And Abraham snaps out of it --- he comes back to his senses – and , with the knife still poised to kill his son --- Abraham says the magic word once more – the word that shows that he has returned from the place of violence, torture and abuse to the place of love, compassion and relationship:

“Hineni”/ “Here I am.” (see Gen. 22: 9-14).

*********************************

To my mind, the rest is irony and sarcasm: God bestowing divine blessing on Abraham and his seed is not a reward for Abraham’s willingness to murder his son --- but rather a concession to his imperfection in spite of having failed the test.

At any rate, that’s my modern midrash on it all…..

**************************************

But I also like how the sages of old confronted this difficult text: In particular, that awful directive:

וְלֶ֨ךְ־לְךָ֔ אֶל־אֶ֖רֶץ הַמֹּֽרִיָּ֑ה וְהַֽעֲלֵ֤הוּ שָׁם֙ לְעֹלָ֔ה עַ֚ל אַחַ֣ד הֶֽהָרִ֔ים אֲשֶׁ֖ר אֹמַ֥ר אֵלֶֽיךָ׃

“Get yourself into the land of Moriah, and offer him up as a burnt offering there on one of the mountains which I will designate to you.”

But notice that our machzor (High Holiday prayer book) “On Wings of Awe” also offers and alternative translation: “bring him up there for a going-up” (instead of “offer him up as a burnt offering there”).

That alternative translation hearkens to a commentary by Rashi, which Rashi takes from the classic midrash collection Bereshit Rabba: In this midrash Abraham is confused about what is required of him and God explains to Abraham: לא אמרתי לך שחטהו אלא העלהו, אסקתיה אחתיה (“I did not say to you, ‘Slaughter him,’ but rather, ’Bring him up.’ You have brought him up; [now] take him down.” (Rashi on Gen. 22:12 quoting from Gen. Rabbah 56:8)

(In case you didn’t follow that, the linguistic ambiguity which the midrash is riffing on is that the word “olah” [עולה] – normally translated as burnt offering, and the verb “leha’a lot” [להעלות] – normally translated as “to offer up” or “to sacrifice” are both derived from the root letters ayin-lamed-hey [עלה]– like in the word “aliyah” [עליה] which we know means ascent or going up, like an aliyah to the Torah or making aliyah to Israel.)

The editor of our machzor, Rabbi Richard Levy, puts it this way in the second of the discussion questions that he suggest for this Torah reading: “Why do you think Abraham translated it in the most extreme way (“offer him up as burnt offering”) rather than the more benign one (“take him up for a hike up the mountain.”)? Do you think Abraham misunderstood what God wanted?” (On Wings of Awe, revised edition, Ktav Publishing House, 2011, p. 169)

That idea really resonates for me: That the Binding of Isaac can be seen, at its core, as a huge case of misunderstanding on the part of Abraham and Isaac and God.

And so, when we come to the story of the Binding of Isaac on Rosh Hashanah, what we really should learn is:

Let’s not kill our children. – Let’s just go for a hike up the mountain.

TAKE HIM DOWN! --- Is not a murder directive on a crime show – No, “take him down” --- is a call to protect one another from harm.

No true God would command us to kill our children.

The true God is the loving spirit --- kevodo malei olam --- whose glory fills the world.

And so what we have in the story of Akedat Yitzchak/ The Binding of Isaac is a huge misunderstanding….

A huge misunderstanding…

********************************

I think that’s also a helpful way of coming to grips with the case of George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin.

George killed Trayvon because he had a huge misunderstanding of what was going on during that fateful night.

It was all so tragic, all so stupid, all so unnecessary.

Where was the voice of the angel to come down from Heaven to cry out to George Zimmerman --- אַל־תִּשְׁלַ֤ח יָֽדְךָ֙ אֶל־הַנַּ֔עַר וְאַל־תַּ֥עַשׂ ל֖וֹ מְא֑וּמָה / “al tishlakh et yadkha el ha na’ar, v’al ta’as lo me’umah!”/ “do not stretch out your hand against the lad; don’t do anything to him!” (Gen. 22:12)
Oh yeah --- there was such a voice – that of the Emergency Dispatcher who asked George:

“Are you following him?”

To which George answered “Yeah”.

To which the dispatcher replied “Okay, we don’t need you to do that.”

To which George replied. “Okay.”

*********************************************

What happened after that is the subject of conflicting testimony.

The prosecution claimed that George went in pursuit of Trayvon who had been running away.

The defense denied this, and claimed that shortly after the phone call with the dispatcher, Trayvon accosted George, knocked him down, and was slamming George’s head against the concrete sidewalk when George fired his gun in self-defense and killed Trayvon.

The jury believed George.

Lurking in the background of this tragedy was the presence of Florida’s “Stand Your Ground” law --- which stated that if George Zimmerman thought he was in danger he had the right to stand his ground and shoot to kill the person who came to attack him – even if he were not in his own home, and even if he could easily retreat to safety. And, indeed, it seems that the existence of the Stand Your Ground law may have been one of the factors in the unseemly delay on Florida’s part in charging George Zimmerman with any crime.

However, as the case developed, George in fact did NOT seek a “stand your ground” preliminary hearing. And he did not invoke the “Stand Your Ground” law in his legal defense at his criminal trial. Rather, he claimed, and the jury believed him, that he shot Trayvon in self-defense in a situation in which there was no opportunity to retreat to safety. Not while he was on the ground with his head being smashed into a sidewalk.

And so, in the ruling that came down from the trial, it didn’t matter whether or not the “Stand Your Ground” law would have said he didn’t have to retreat -- since the jury found that George did not in fact have any possibility of retreating.

“Stand Your Ground” is still a sick law. It’s still a law that increases the likelihood of violence all for the sake of a peculiarly American ideal of machismo.

But it turns out that the case of the death of Trayvon Martin at the hands of George Zimmerman did not actually involve the “Stand Your Ground” law.

But it’s a tragedy all the same.

If Trayvon Martin did indeed attack George Zimmerman, as the court found, and if George Zimmerman had died – Trayvon would have had a powerful self-defense argument as well: He might have argued that he feared for his life – because he was being followed on a dark rainy night by a stranger with a gun who mistook him for a potential burglar.

And as for George Zimmerman --- What would “Hineni” --- “Here I am” mean to him? Last week it was reported that he is petitioning the Florida courts for reimbursement of his court costs. Under the law of Florida he is entitled to do that as a person who has been acquitted of a criminal offense. But I’m reminded of the words of singer-songwriter Ben Folds, in the chorus of his song “Evaporate” -- the last cut on one of my favorite CD’s: “Whatever and Ever Amen” by the Ben Folds Five:

Here I stand,
Sad and free.
I can't cry,
And I can't see
What I've done.
Oh God what have I done?

***************************

I’ve backed myself into a homiletical corner here --- leaving you with such a downbeat Rosh

Hashanah sermon that started so promisingly with a joke…

But that’s okay –

Now is the time for Tikkun Atzmi/ Repair of Ourselves and of our still broken social fabric.

And now is the time to remain hopeful and engaged towards Tikkun Olam/ the Repair of [our] World.

And now is the time to heed the Psalmist’s call:

חֲזַק, וְיַאֲמֵץ לִבֶּךָ; וְקַוֵּה, אֶל-יְהוָה / be strong, and let your heart take courage; and hope in the Eternal. (Ps. 27:14)

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr famously said in 1963 – 50 years ago: “I have a dream” --- and he drew upon the exodus narratives of Torah and the justice calls of the Prophets to infuse hope into his dream.

***************************************

So today as well, may we be among the rodfei shalom va-tzedek/ the pursuers of peace and justice. May we all be safe from harm in a world where misunderstandings don’t turn lethal because in that world we will have become united in friendship and trust.

May we not lose hope.

Keyn Yehi Ratzon/ May this be God’s will.

And, in the meantime, L’shanah tovah tikateyvu – May you be inscribed for a good year --- l’shanah tovah u’metukah – a year of goodness and of sweetness.

Amen.

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Rabbi David.

SERMON FOR FIRST MORNING OF ROSH HASHANAH 5774/2013

Sounds of the Shofar

Our tradition has several names for the holiday that brings us here today on this first day of the Jewish month of Tishri. Rosh Hashanah is, of course, the most common one. As you probably already know, it means the Head (“Rosh”) of the Year (“Shanah”), in other words, the start of the year. It’s interesting to note that the word “shanah” (year) comes from a Hebrew root that means change and difference. We are thus reminded that every moment is different from the one that has past, every year is different from the one which is past. And we ponder --- Amidst all this change – What are the constants that root us and that give our lives stability, security and definition in the midst of this relentless change?

Another name for the holiday is Yom Ha-Din – the Day of Judgment. Tradition teaches that this is the day when our fates for the coming year are, so to speak, “inscribed.” Thus begins a period of reflection and making amends and restoring frayed relationships that culminates in Yom Kippur, on the 10^th day of Tishri. On Yom Kippur/ The Day of Atonement, tradition teaches that those fates that were inscribed on Rosh Hashanah are, so to speak, “sealed.” But of course, that’s metaphorical language. The process of moral inventory is a year round process. The gates of repentance are ever open. Indeed, the weekday amidah, throughout the year, includes prayers seeking repentance and pardon. It’s just that these themes take “center stage” this time of year.

Which brings us to yet another name for this holiday: Yom Harat Olam --- The Birthday of the World. The Talmud teaches that the world was created on the 25^th of Elul and that Rosh Hashanah, the 1^st of Tishri, is actually the anniversary of the 6^th day of Creation --- the day of the creation of the first human being as described in Genesis chapter 1. Birthdays are times of celebration and joy and wonder. However, they can also be times for taking stock of our lives. How much more so when we identify today as the birthday for our entire species! And so Rosh Hashanah is also Yom Din – a day of judgement, a day when, in the words of the prayer Unetaneh Tokef:

“Kevakarat ro’eh edro ma’avir tzono tachat shivto….”/ “As the shepherd gathers the sheep, moving them on beneath the staff, so do You, God, move and enumerate, call to account and visit every living soul, appointing the measure of every creature’s life, inscribing the decree of their judgment.

Yet another name for the holiday is Yom Hazikaron – the Day of Remembrance. In our Torah readings and Haftarot on Rosh Hashanah we revisit the stories of God remembering Sarah and God remembering Hannah in their despair at not being able to conceive. And in the prayers of the Machzor we ask God to remember the Divine covenant between God and all humanity in the time of Noah, and the covenant between God and the Jewish people established with our Ancestors and played out at Sinai and ever since.

So many names. So many themes and meanings.

But probably the most evocative name for this holiday is “Yom Teruah.”

“Teruah” is one of the kinds of sounds produced on the Shofar, so Yom Teruah, is often translated as something like “The Day of the Shofar Blast” or “The Day of the Sounding of the Shofar.” In Numbers chapter 10, the Torah describes two types of sounds that the sages of the Talmud later applied to the shofar blasts on Rosh Hashanah. “Teruah” refers to repeated short, staccato blasts. By contrast, “Tekiah” is a single long blast. The Tekiah is the signal for the people to gather together and the Teruah is the signal for the people to start moving ahead to the next stage of the 40 year long journey to the Promised Land. (See Num. 10: 1-10). This description in the Torah of Tekiah and Teruah becomes in the Talmud the proof text for requiring that every Teruah played on the Shofar be preceded by a Tekiah.

But before we explore that distinction between Tekiah and Teruah any further, let’s go back to the symbol of the shofar in general. It’s a ritual object whose appearance and whose sound evokes so many memories and feelings and impressions.

As I was working on this sermon, I asked Maureen O’Brien if she could share with me her own feelings about her role as ba’alat tekiah (the person who sounds the shofar).

Here’s some of what Maureen wrote to me in response:

[She writes:]

“I am keenly aware that the commandment is that we hear the sound of the shofar. It is not about the blowing of the shofar but rather that it be heard. It is not about me as the shofar blower -- I am just an instrument for others. I am honored and humbled by the experience. It is also a very nerve-wracking experience. One of the most powerful moments for me is when you have the whole congregation do the calls -- all are participants saying we want and accept the sound of the shofar. I have always found it interesting that the Rabbis didn't known what the exact sound was to be. […] In their inclusive ways all [the different possibilities] were incorporated into the service. To me that says something about Judaism itself as well as about the mixed moods associated with the High Holidays. T'ki'ah is associated with coronations and has a celebratory mood to it. Sh'varim, to me, invokes a yearning. With any new beginning we want to hold onto the past and we fear, in a way, the uncertainty of the future. Will I truly be able to change? Will I be alone in that process? The staccato notes of t'ru'ah were supposedly associated with the call to battle. It says to me awake, take notice, move forward.”

My friend Susan Harris lives in Brooklyn, New York and sounds the shofar each year on Rosh Hashanah at Congregation Beth Simchat Torah in Manhattan. I’ve known Sue since 1993 when she was a participant at the Elat Chayim Jewish Renewal Retreat Center and I was a summer intern there. She told me on the phone a few days ago that for her the shofar reminds her of the human body. Just like our own physical bodies, the shofar is basically a lifeless, empty shell until the shofar player infuses it with breath, spirit, soul, neshamah. And Sue also thinks about how in order to produce a clear sound you have to clean out the shmutz – the accumulated dirt and gunk -- from the inside of the shofar. Similarly for us, we have to clean out from ourselves the accumulation of unproductive thoughts, attitudes and habits so that we can fully access our own souls and so that we can more clearly express our own prayers, longings and aspirations.

What thoughts, memories or associations come to you when you see the shofar or hear its sounds?

Well, here’s a “TOP TEN LIST” -- though I don’t think this top 10 list has ever been on the David Letterman Show. This is 10^th century Jewish philosopher Saadia Ga’on’s top 10 list of symbolic meanings of the shofar – in an adapted version of that list that I found on the website of Kolel: The Adult Centre for Liberal Jewish Learning of Toronto. See if any of these have particular resonance for you:

(I’m tempted to go from number 10 up to number 1 like David Letterman does, but for clarity’s sake I’ll stick to the order set out by Saadia Ga’on.)

1. The Shofar is like the trumpet which announces a royal coronation. On Rosh Hashanah, the birthday of the universe, we accept God's Rulership- our prayers and shofar blasts are like the coronation ceremony in which Israel crowns God as Sovereign.
2. Rosh Hashana is the first of the Aseret Yemei Teshuvah (Ten Days of Repentence), and the Shofar calls us to examine our deeds and return to God, who will always accept us if we are sincere.
3. The Shofar reminds us of the Shofar which blew when the Torah was given at Sinai; thus we are reminded to study and cherish the Torah.
4. The Shofar reminds us of the voice of the prophets, whose voices rang out like a Shofar blast in calling the people to do justice and mercy and follow Holy ways.
5. The Shofar sounds like crying, which reminds us of the destruction of the ancient Temple, and thus calls upon us to work for and pray for redemption.
6. The Shofar, since it is a ram's horn, reminds us of the Akedah, the story of the binding of Isaac, when God provided a ram to be sacrificed instead. Thus we are called upon to be as faithful to God as Abraham, and be inspired by his example of sacrifice and love of God.
7. The Shofar calls us to be humble- its mighty blast reminds us of the mightiness of God and the fact that God is everywhere at all times.
8. On the Day of Judgment, a Shofar will be blown to announce God's Rulership- our Shofar blasts remind us to prepare for God's examination of our deeds.
9. The Shofar foreshadows the jubilant Jewish return to freedom and peace when we all end up in Jerusalem in the time of Messiah- it reminds us to have hope and faith in God's saving power.
10. The Shofar will be blown in Messianic times to announce the redemption of the whole world, when all nations will recognize that God is One.

Our own particular religious and theological beliefs over 1000 years after Saadia Gaon may not be identical, but I think a lot of what he wrote still speaks to us.

I particularly want to highlight number five on Saadia’s list: The Shofar sounds like crying, which reminds us of the destruction of the ancient Temple, and thus calls upon us to work for and pray for redemption. This identification of the shofar sounds with human tears is a well-known theme. But maybe we’re not as focused on the destruction of the ancient Temple as are ancestors were or as some of our contemporaries are. So I think it’s really striking that the Talmud actually cites a different example of human tears when it talks about the shofar. Specifically, in Tractate Rosh Hashanah of the Talmud we learn that the crying sounds of the shofar are to remind us of the tears of Sisera’s mother as she awaited her son’s return from battle. Sisera was a bitter Canaanite enemy of the Israelites who was killed in battle by Ya’el, and the image of Sisera’s weeping mother comes from the Song of Deborah in the Book of Judges. It’s all portrayed very much as a just war. And yet, in the most charged ritual of Rosh Hashanah we are supposed to remember the tears of the mothers of our enemies.

In these days when we are witnessing a new rush to war, we remember those tears.

**************************

In preparing these remarks, I took the opportunity to ask myself the same question I asked all of you: What does the shofar sound evoke for me when I hear it? And the first things that came to mind for me were those “tests of the Emergency Broadcast System” that we hear from time to time on radio and television. The format for those tests seems to have been streamlined in the last few years. However, when I think of them I mostly remember how they were before that --- There would be a long, annoying alarm that would last longer than any Tekiah Gedolah I’ve heard in synagogue. But before that, the announcer would assure us “THIS IS ONLY A TEST” and afterwards they’d reassure us again “THIS HAS BEEN A TEST of the Emergency Broadcast System”.

So I guess for me then the challenge is to get past the inclination to think: “THIS IS ONLY A TEST” – and instead really to take to heart the shofar’s call to repentance, self-reflection and reconciliation that this season brings.

Because, really – this in NOT a test. As the popular adage goes – “Life is not a rehearsal.” This is the real thing. We shouldn’t take the days and hours and minutes and seconds for granted for time moves only in one direction (notwithstanding Doctor Who or all the other science fiction programs I love watching….)

**************************

The first mention of the Shofar in the traditional Rosh Hashanah liturgy comes just before the Rosh Hashanah evening amidah. That’s where we find the famous passage from Psalm 81 that proclaims:

ד תִּקְעוּ בַחֹדֶשׁ שׁוֹפָר; בַּכֵּסֶה, לְיוֹם חַגֵּנוּ.	4 Sound tekiyah on the shofar on the New Moon [of Tishri] at the dark of the moon, the time of our holy day.
ה כִּי חֹק לְיִשְׂרָאֵל הוּא; מִשְׁפָּט, לֵאלֹהֵי יַעֲקֹב.	5 For it is a law for Israel, a judgment by the God of Jacob.

A commentary I read this week from Rabbi Eli Mansour points out that in this passage the sounding of the shofar is described both as “chok” (translated here as “law”) and as “mishpat” (translated here as “judgment”).

The Hebrew words “chok” [חוק]and “mishpat” [משפט] are actually translated in a variety of ways in different machzorim and Bible commentaries. However, the key difference, as far as rabbinic tradition is concerned, is that “chok” refers to a mitzvah that is supposed to be followed simply as an expression of devotion to God, and which supposedly does not lend itself to rational interpretation. By contrast, “mishpat” is a mitzvah about which our sages teach that had God not commanded it, human beings would still have come up with it on our own because it makes rational sense as a way for living in society.

But Psalm 81 uses both designations – the sounding of the shofar is both “chok” and “mishpat.”

What this says to me is that there is an aspect of the experience of hearing the shofar that reaches us emotionally and another aspect of the experience that reaches us intellectually. The “mishpat” --- the “rational” or “intellectual” aspect is the idea that the shofar expresses – or at least implies – a clear articulate message. What is that message? Here is Maimonides’ famous answer from his 12^th century work “Mishneh Torah”, from the section in it called Hilchot Teshuvah/ Laws of Repentance. This is the message at which he says the shofar call hints:

“Awake, you sleepers from your sleep. Arouse you slumberers from your slumber and ponder your deeds; remember your Creator and return to God in repentance. Do not be like those who miss the truth in pursuit of shadows and waste their years seeking vanity. Look well to your souls and consider your deeds; turn away from your wrong ways and improper thoughts.” (Hilchot Teshuvah 3:4)

In other words, this is the shofar as spiritual alarm clock – our wake-up call to return to our better selves and to live more closely in tune with our ethical and moral standards.

Indeed, the organization formerly known as Rabbis For Human Rights – North America recently changed its name to Teruah: The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights.

But then there’s the “chok” side – the irrational, inarticulate, inchoate side. The emotional aspect that can’t be put into cogent directives. From this “chok” perspective, the shofar’s sounds are the sounds of our yearnings and our hunches and our sensations that we can’t put into words. It’s the “I-Thou” experience, it’s the magic of connection and relationship of one person with another and of each person with God.

But I want to go back to what I mentioned earlier about the distinction between the different types of shofar sounds. Nowadays we think of three different shofar sounds: The single long tekiah, the three-fold broken wail of the shevarim, and the nine-fold broken sobs of the teruah. However, the Torah only refers to tekiah and teruah.

In the Talmud there is a debate about the meaning of teruah. Basically, some sages thought that the nine-fold teruah we know today was the real teruah, and other sages thought that the three-fold pattern that we now call “shevarim” was the real teruah. And some thought that “teruah” really meant the combination of the three-fold call and the nine-fold call.

So, the solution was that each set of shofar calls would include every possible version of what teruah could mean.

In general, however you slice it whether it’s “pah-pah-pah,” or whether it’s “pa-pa-pa/pa-pa-pa/pa-pa-pa”, or whether it’s “pah-pah-pah -- pa-pa-pa/pa-pa-pa/pa-pa-pa” --- this is indeed supposed to be the sound of crying out. The sound of our soul’s yearning. The sound of our anxiety as we face judgment.

But what I really find meaningful is the teaching that each one of those repeated cries has to be preceded and followed by the long, steady, confident sound of the single note TEKIAH. The sages derive this requirement from the fact that both TEKIAH and TERUAH are invoked in that excerpt from Numbers chapter 10 that I mentioned earlier.

Rabbi Shlomo Riskin has a nice teaching about this. Basically, he teaches that the short sobbing sounds (in all their permutations of teruah, shevarim and shevarim-teruah) express our sorrows at living in an imperfect world full of injustice, and our anxiety as to whether our own actions have lived up to our moral standards. But the long, confident, exultant sound of the Tekiah expresses our faith in God’s compassion and our commitment to repairing the world.

For ultimately this is a world of hope and blessing and potential.

I think the true heroes of our day are the ones who can tap into both of those aspects: the teruah of anguish and anger --- and the tekiah of faith, hope and commitment.

In the American Civil Rights movement this was known as keeping one’s “Eyes on the Prize.” (the tekiah) even in the midst of the struggle against injustice (the teruah). It’s sort of like the tradition of the Passover seder, where the bitter maror of slavery is always tempered by the sweetness of the charoset.

My own nominee for such a hero of our day is Malala Yousafsai, the Pakistani teenager shot by the Taliban after speaking out for girls' rights to education in Pakistan. She has since become a beacon of hope in this world where injustice, prejudice and violence often seem to have the upper hand.

Here’s some of what she said just two days ago in her new hometown of Birmingham, England, as she officiated a new public library there. This new facility is in fact now the largest public library in Europe.

This is what Malala says:

"Pens and books are the weapons that defeat terrorism.

"I truly believe the only way we can create global peace is through not only educating our minds, but our hearts and our souls.

"This is the way forward to our destiny of peace and prosperity.

"Books are very precious - some books can [take] you back centuries and some take you into the future.

"In some books you will visit the core of your heart and in others you will go out into the universe.

"Books keep ones feeling alive.

"Aristotle's words are still breathing, Rumi's poetry will always inspire and Shakespeare's soul will never die.

"There is no better way to explain the importance of books than say that even God chose the medium of a book to send his message to his people."

"We must not forget that 57 million children are out of school.

"We must speak up for peace and development in Nigeria, Syria and Somalia.

"We must speak up for the children of Pakistan, India and Afghanistan, who are suffering from terrorism, poverty, child labour and child trafficking.

"Let us help them through our voice, action and charity.

"Let us help them to read books and go to school.

"And let us not forget that even one book, one pen, one child and one teacher can change the world."

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/10283443/Malala-Yousafzai-opens-new-library-in-Birmingham-and-declares-books-will-defeat-terrorism.html

Malala’s words ring out like the sound of the shofar.

In this new year 5774 may the short broken cries of the shofar help us to give voice to our innermost yearnings. And may the long steady calls of the shofar shore up in us the faith and courage that sustains us. And, may we be graced with the ability to hear and respond to the cries of our neighbor – friend and foe alike – as clearly as we hear the sound of the shofar on this Yom Teruah.

L’shanah tovah tikateivu/ May you be inscribed for a good year ----- shanah tovah u’metukah, a good and sweet year of health, blessing, prosperity, meaning and connection.

Amen

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Rabbi David.

SERMON FOR YOM KIPPUR EVENING 5774/2013

TOO MUCH INFORMATION – PART I

There’s a trick question that rabbis and religious school teachers sometimes like to ask in order to stump their congregants and their students. But I bet there are plenty of you who will get the right answer even though it is sort of tricky. Ready?

What is the most important Jewish holiday? (Everyone who thinks they know should just call out the response simultaneously)

Yes, some of you got it – the answer is Shabbat.

So, yes, I want to congratulate you all for coming to Temple for the most important Jewish holiday --- Shabbat…

Of course, Yom Kippur is very important too. And, our little quiz notwithstanding, we all know very well that Yom Kippur --– and especially the Kol Nidre service that inaugurates it --- is when many synagogues will have their biggest attendance.

What is it that draws us here on this night of all nights?

The one night of the year when here at Temple we have no refreshments! What ever happened to the supposedly hard and fast rule of “feed them and they will come?”

My sense is that what draws us to shul for Yom Kippur is that this is the day each year when, as a Jewish community, we most powerfully confront our sense of mortality.

Indeed, the language of the ritual confession or “vidui” that is recited at the bedside of a person who is near death is similar to the language of the vidui prayer of the minchah (afternoon service) for Erev Yom Kippur, which I personally recited just a few hours ago.

And the white kittel that I’m wearing to lead services is intended to remind us of a burial shroud.

Kol Nidre night may pull us into shul because it reminds us that we have a limited time on this earth. We can never know with absolute certainty what tomorrow will bring.

So it is today/hayom that we must rededicate ourselves to being better partners with God in the healing and repair of our world; and in the healing and repair of ourselves.

In Hebrew the same word “avodah” means both “worship” and “service.” The two are inextricably linked. Our worship – in prayer and song and public reading of scripture – should lead us to service. That is the message of this awesome day.

I’m hoping we will pay particular attention this year to a verse from the Yom Kippur afternoon Torah portion, Leviticus 19:16 to be precise: There we learn -- “lo ta’amod al dam reyekha”/ “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood.” (Lev. 19:16).

The Talmud explains that the commandment “do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood” means that we must not stand and watch a person die when we can do something to save them.

This is a lesson that too few people understood as the Shoah unfolded in the 1930’s and 40’s. This is a lesson that too few people understood as genocide took place in Rwanda in the 1990’s. And nine years ago on Kol Nidre night I was speaking to the congregation in my former congregation in Plattsburgh, NY about not standing idly by while the people of Darfur in western Sudan were being massacred by the central government of their own country.

Growing up, and inculcated with the values I absorbed in my own Jewish upbringing, I accepted the notion that the Shoah was totally unique in world history. I no longer agree with that idea. Genocide is genocide, and it makes no difference that in the particular case of the Jewish people during the Nazi era it was the work of white Europeans….

I feel I need to mention this because a congregant who I respect very much challenged me a couple of weeks ago when I first mentioned from the bima that I was opposed to President Obama’s plan to bomb Syria. One of the offhand comments I had made at the time was that this was a Syrian civil war, and that Assad was not attacking or threatening to attack the United States (or Israel for that matter).

But then he said to me: Well, if the Syrians who were being gassed were Jews would that be different? My instinctive, even reflexive, response to him at that moment was that, yes, that would be different because we, as Jews, have a special responsibility to other Jews. So, in that sense, it would be as if we ourselves were, in fact, being attacked so that this would no longer be just a Syrian internal civil conflict. He then responded that our responsibility really should be to all of humanity.

Okay, so let me clarify the reflexive answer I gave to him two weeks ago. And that congregant – He told me I could identify him – was none other than our Temple president Tom Griggs --- who I do indeed respect very much.

So I want to state, “for the record” that yes, I do believe that “lo ta’amod al dam reyekha” / “do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor” DOES apply to all of our neighbors on this planet of ours, and that includes the innocent dead of Syria.

Here’s what Elie Wiesel said in 2004 when the topic was the genocidal violence during the civil war in the Darfur region of Sudan. His words from back then still resonate now as we think about the situation in Syria:

“[…] Congressional delegations, special envoys and humanitarian agencies send back or bring back horror-filled reports from the scene. A million human beings, young and old, have been uprooted, deported. Scores of women are being raped every day, children are dying of disease hunger and violence.

“How can a citizen of a free country not pay attention? How can anyone, anywhere not feel outraged? How can a person, whether religious or secular, not be moved by compassion? And above all, how can anyone who remembers remain silent?

“As a Jew who does not compare any event to the Holocaust, I feel concerned and challenged by the Sudanese tragedy. We must be involved. How can we reproach the indifference of non-Jews to Jewish suffering if we remain indifferent to another people's plight?

“It happened in Cambodia, then in former Yugoslavia, and in Rwanda, now in Sudan. Asia, Europe, Africa: Three continents have become prisons, killing fields and cemeteries for countless innocent, defenseless populations. Will the plague be allowed to spread?

"Lo taamod al dam réakha" is a Biblical commandment. "Thou shall not stand idly by the shedding of the blood of thy fellow man." The word is not "akhikha," thy Jewish brother, but "réakha," thy fellow human being, be he or she Jewish or not. All are entitled to live with dignity and hope. All are entitled to live without fear and pain.

“Not to assist Sudan's victims today would for me be unworthy of what I have learned from my teachers, my ancestors and my friends, namely that God alone is alone: His creatures must not be.

“What pains and hurts me most now is the simultaneity of events. While we sit here and discuss how to behave morally, both individually and collectively, over there, in Darfur and elsewhere in Sudan, human beings kill and die.

“Should the Sudanese victims feel abandoned and neglected, it would be our fault - and perhaps our guilt.

“That's why we must intervene.

“If we do, they and their children will be grateful for us. As will be, through them, our own.”

And yet: That was 2004 and now this is 2013. Between then and now we have the long drawn out legacy of the Iraq War, and the complicated new dynamics of the Arab Spring. And here is the most recent statement I found on the internet this week from Elie Wiesel regarding the current situation in Syria: In an interview with a reporter from the Los Angeles Times[i] in April of this year he was asked:

“How do you read the Arab Spring?”

And Wiesel responded:

“I think it began well, a kind of spiritual and political rebellion. It was hijacked and turned into something else. Take Syria. The problem with Syria is painful because the Syrian border with Israel is the only one that has never been violated. The Syrians are respecting the border with Israel. And yet their fanatics are fanatics. What to do? If I knew the answer to that!”

The question that remains then is not --- do we have a moral obligation to respond to the atrocities taking place in Syria. (The answer to that question is YES) but rather the question is --- “What sorts of responses would be productive?”

The bloodshed has been going on in Syria for two years already --- or decades – if you want to think of the larger picture of the violent repressive nature of the State led now by Bashar Assad and formerly by his father Hafez Assad.

But even if we limit ourselves to the current civil conflict there, we are faced with the fact that atrocities are being committed on both sides, and great moral ambiguity exists regarding the pros and cons of any particular solutions to the conflict. What we do know is that over 100,000 Syrians have died in the last two years of fighting, and that MILLIONS of Syrians have fled the country as refugees.

And the question remains: What is to be done?

*****************

There is a classic Jewish teaching that the designation -- Yom Ha-Kippurim [יום הכפורים] – which is how the Day of Atonement is referred to in the Torah – should be interpreted as if the letter kaf[כ] were not part of the verbal root kaf-pey-resh [כפר] meaning “atone” but rather as if that letter kaf represented the prefix “ke” (meaning “like” or “as) so that we’d get “Yom ke-Purim,” meaning “A Day Like Purim.” I found a nice explanation of this in an article by Rabbi Shraga Simmons on the aish.com website. Rabbi Simmons explains that the description of the Day of Atonement as a “day like Purim” refers to the idea that what we accomplish on Yom Kippur with spiritual pursuits, we accomplish on Purim with physical pursuits. These holidays are two sides of the same coin, two opposite halves of the same day.”

But on this Yom Kippur 5774, I’m sensing other ways in which today feels like Yom Ke-Purim/ A Day Like Purim. In Megillat Esther there are dizzying twists and turns of plot---- so too this High Holiday season. We’ve gone from the brink of attacking Syria to a new attempt at diplomacy in ways we would not have anticipated less than a week ago. And, depending on your interpretation of recent events, President Obama and Secretary of State Kerry have been as inept as King Achashverosh or as astute as Mordechai in their handling of the situation.

Assad we know is as despicable and murderous as Haman. And as for Russian President Vladimir Putin, I prefer to think of him as a sort of Queen Esther --- Esther breaks character to rescue her people, while Putin breaks character to rescue his client Bashar Assad. Well, the parallels I guess aren’t exact, but, in light of Putin’s persecution of gay people in Russia, it does give me pleasure to imagine him as a drag queen…

But that’s the subject of another sermon….

In any event, all the Purimesque plot twists of the past couple of weeks have been particularly challenging for rabbis like me who have been trying to write our High Holiday sermons.

My first reaction when President Obama started pushing the idea of attacking Syria was impatience with him for getting tripped up in a “red line” of his own making. But then again, I too find myself tripped up by my own self-imposed “red line” of wanting to do a current-events oriented talk from the bima tonight.

In truth, I often feel that way when trying to make connections between Jewish teachings, liturgy and scripture and political issues of the day. From my perspective, Judaism is multi-voiced and the Jewish people are politically diverse. And my general sense is that any of you can read the New York Times or listen to NPR just as well as I can. And this week in particular, I’ve been dealing with data overload – TMI – too much information --- as I’ve been seizing onto every new blog post, news report and op-ed essay to try to help me understand what’s going on in Syria and what should be done about it. It has gotten to the point where I have so many news articles and listserve posts from colleagues weighing in on Syria that all these resources have just blurred together and have pretty much become useless to me. So, I’ll just have to try to give you an impressionistic account of my thinking on the subject and see if I can try to couch it in some Jewish teaching appropriate for the holiday.

Viscerally, I’m reminded of the events of 9-11 and their aftermath. We marked the anniversary of that awful day just yesterday. Back then I found myself glued to media reports of the ongoing rush of new developments in the same way that I’ve been doing so in the last couple of weeks about the possibility of the US attacking Syria.

The attacks on New York City and Washington, DC and the plane crash in Shanksville, Pennsylvania that was headed to Washington --- took place 12 years ago, but we still, as a nation, carry within ourselves the trauma of that day. If we are reluctant to confront Assad militarily over his use of chemical weapons, the reluctance comes in part from our knowing that Assad’s opponents include significant numbers of extremists allied to the terrorist group that targeted us on 9-11.

And our reluctance comes from remembering the costly and destabilizing legacy of the Iraq War that President George W. Bush instigated in large part by using the events of 9-11 as a phony pretext.

And our reluctance comes from remembering how that war was sold to us as a limited action and so we don’t trust the current administration when it says it too wants authorization only for a limited action.

And we’re confused about what this supposedly limited action is supposed to entail --- more than a pinprick but less than a regime change --- with no real sense of what that actually would entail.

And how can it not turn out to be a slippery slope to being fully mired in a civil war that is not our own?

And our reluctance comes from knowing that there are so many “nation building” needs right here at home that compete for our attention and our dollars.

******************

What is there to say? My first instinct has been the same as that of many others, both Republicans and Democrats: that President Obama’s plan to attack Syria has been more about proving our toughness than about achieving cogent goals. Assad is a brutal dictator, but a US attack on his forces would be an act of aggression against a nation that has neither attacked us nor threatened to attack us.

All for what? To defend a “rule of warfare” not to use chemical weapons. Yes, the President made a poignant case on national television and radio Wednesday night about the horrors of poison gas. But to my mind he didn’t manage to make a sensible case for how this is qualitatively worse than the horrors of conventional warfare that has killed over 100 times as many Syrians. And to my mind he didn’t make a convincing case as to how adding American attacks to the mix would increase the likelihood of peace or even how it would decrease the likelihood of Assad using chemical weapons if in fact we’re NOT looking to oust Assad altogether and we’re not attempting to destroy the chemical weapons themselves – for we know that any such attempt would simply release them into the air and cause the very harms we’re trying to prevent.

I’m very thankful that there is now a reasonable possibility that the current impasse over chemical weapons and red lines will be resolved without sending American bombs into the midst of the Syrian Civil War. The Russians have given us a diplomatic way out. I’m sure that President Putin’s motives include a general desire to increase Russian influence in the World in general and the Middle East in particular. But, however Machiavellian his motives may be, my gut sense is that --- yes – he, with his Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov are very much serving the cause of peace.

And I give a lot of credit to both President Obama and Secretary of State Kerry for switching course to give the diplomatic effort the best possible shot at success.

Of course, a number of pundits have suggested that this course change suits President Obama just fine. The resolution of support he was seeking in Congress was poised to fail, and there is that suspicion all around that he was backed into a corner by his own red lines.

As Maureen Dowd trenchantly opined in the NY Times on Wednesday: “ Where the mindlessly certain W. adopted a fig leaf of diplomacy to use force in Iraq, the mindfully uncertain Obama is adopting a fig leaf of force to use diplomacy in Syria….”

Whatever the motivations, and whether all this was planned or serendipitous -- Let us hope and pray for the success of these diplomatic efforts.

And further, let us hope and pray for the welfare of all of the innocent civilians caught in the crossfire.

Meanwhile, there are various organizations working to assist Syrian refugees. Many of us just a few months ago attended a fundraising dinner organized by the Islamic Center of the Twin Ports and the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Duluth for Syrian refugee relief.

Better than bombs, we can still contribute to such organizations as: CARE, Unicef, Doctors Without Borders or other groups that are trying to address what the World Health Organization has called the worst humanitarian crisis in the world today. I hope you will consider doing so as I have personally done earlier this week.

Just remember that even if Syria signs on to the international convention of chemical weapons, and even if those weapons are put under international control and destroyed --- that doesn’t mean that the Syrian crisis will have been resolved. Far from it.

Psalm 34, one of the biblical passages that we often include in our Shabbat morning service charges us:בַּקֵּשׁ שָׁלוֹם וְרָדְפֵהוּ. – Seek peace and chase after it. May those who are pursuing peace be crowned with success in their efforts.

And, in the meantime, amidst all the work that needs to be done in our own city, our own state, and our own country, may we nevertheless not stand idly by as the crisis that engulfs Syria continues to unfold.

Gmar chatimah tovah v’tzom kal/ I wish you all a good sealing in the Book of Life, and an easy fast.

Shabbat shalom.

[i] http://articles.latimes.com/2013/apr/23/opinion/la-oe-morrison-wiesel-20130418

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Rabbi David.

Sermon for Yom Kippur Morning 5774/2013

TOO MUCH INFORMATION – PART II

Here’s one I’m sure you’ve heard before (and the last names don’t refer to specific people here who have those last names – It’s just how the joke goes….):

Mr. Cohen's son: Dad, how come you go to shul?

Mr. Cohen: What kind of a question is that?

Mr. Cohen's son: I know you are a non-believer, an atheist, an agnostic, or whatever; so why would you go to shul?

Mr. Cohen: Goldberg goes to shul.

Mr. Cohen's Son: So what? What kind of an answer is that?

Mr. Cohen: Goldberg goes to shul to talk to God; I go to shul to talk to Goldberg!

I love that joke because it reminds us that the shared experience of coming together at Temple is as much about the sense of connection and community that we have with one another --- as it is about any of the particular prayers that we recite together or that we improvise individually while we’re here. Judaism is not a solitary pursuit.

The title of a famous book from the 1950’s about the shetls of pre-war Poland sums it up: “Life is with people.”

Regardless of the theological or spiritual doubts or struggles that any of us may have individually, Torah nevertheless portrays God as saying: Venikdashti btokh bnei yisra’el --- “I will be sanctified in the midst of the Israelites”[i] . That’s a verse that the sages singled out to use as a proof text for the halachic requirement of a minyan for public prayer.

The camaraderie is such an important aspect of all of this.

Indeed, one of the formative experiences of my life that helped steer me to rabbinical school was my experience of being a regular at the weekday Shacharit service at Temple Beth El in Portland, Maine back in the late 1980’s. My friend Robert Levine, a newly-minted 20-something lawyer as I was back then, encouraged me to attend. Unlike Cohen in the joke, I did in fact go to talk with God ---- but I also came to talk to Levine ---- and to all the other regular “minyannaires.”

Before you know it, Robert and I were co-presidents of the Temple Brotherhood which used to organize the morning minyan. Really, all that my oh-so-important role as Brotherhood co-president involved was that I took turns with Robert making the morning announcements near the end of the service. And whenever I did so, as I walked back to my seat a couple of the old guys in the back would say --- “very good David, very good….”

Hearing them say “very good David” actually meant a lot to me since at the time I wasn’t getting such great performance reviews from the partners in the big stuffy law firm where I was a lowly associate…

In any event, Robert and I would often go out afterwards to a local place called “Mr. Bagel” before heading off to our respective offices. And at least once a week a whole bunch of us would go out to breakfast after minyan.

Of course, that sort of camaraderie and friendship applies not just to weekday minyanim but also to when we gather on Shabbat. You never know how much a kind word or a warm greeting shared in synagogue might mean to someone – whether that person be a regular attendee or a rare attendee or a visitor or a newcomer.

Never forget that the Friday night oneg and the Saturday morning Kiddush are just as important as the service itself.

Okay, sorry about talking about food so much --- we still have hours to go before we break the fast…..

**********************

On Yom Kippur there is a particular poignancy to the communal nature of our tefillot. Think, for example, of those introductory phrases just before Kol Nidre is sung: Beshiva shel malah, uveshivah shel matah. Al da’at hamakom v’al da’at hakahal. Anu matirin lhitpalel im ha’avaryanim/ By the authority of the heavenly court, and by the authority of the earthly court, with the consent of the Everpresent God, and with the consent of this congregation, we hereby declare it permissible to pray with those who have transgressed…

**********************

And of course --- “those who have transgressed” includes all of us.

Remember: “I am nothing,” “I am nothing,” “I am nothing”…

As we engage with our innermost thoughts and concerns during services, the presence of our fellow congregants reminds us that we are not alone.

**********************

In the last couple of years I’ve been thinking more and more about the importance of physical proximity. Of actually being in the same place at the same time to forge those communal bonds as we do here in Temple.

Many of us spend more and more of our time and mental energy interacting with others over the internet -- with laptops and ipads and smartphones. Yes, it’s a way to keep connected with distant family and friends. And yes, it’s a fun diversion to chat with people with whom we hav common interests yet who we may never even have met in person.

But it’s not the same as interacting IRL – as the new shorthand expresses it --- “in real life.”

AND --

We need to be careful lest addiction to these devices takes away our ability to be emotionally present with the people with whom we are actually physically present.

Hiney mah tov u’mah na’im shevet achim v’achayot gam yachad. How good and pleasant it is that we gather together as brothers and sisters. Physically. Here. IRL. In Real Life.

Without withdrawing ourselves from one another to post about it on Facebook or Tweet about it on Twitter while the gathering is still taking place.

*****************************

I never remember the meaning of all those Myers-Brigg personality type designations – INTJ, EFXQ, LMNOP . However, I do recall that one of the letters refers to where each of us is on the introvert-extrovert scale. But, wherever on that scale any of us are, we need some amount of connection with others --- AND --- we also need some amount of solitude and privacy.

We need community, but we also need individual space.

A classic Jewish teaching about this is found in Rashi’s commentary to Numbers 24:5. That’s where the foreign prophet for hire Bala’am (You remember him – He’s the guy with the talking donkey) --- That’s where he makes his famous observation: “Mah tovu ohalekha ya’akov, mishkenotekha yisra’el”: “How good your tents are, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel.” This verse is traditionally recited when one enters a synagogue, and we usually start our Shabbat morning service with it.

Rashi, commenting on the words “Mah tovu ohalekha”/ “How good are your tents” (and citing an earlier passage from the Talmud) says that Balaam found those tents to be good על שראה פיתחיהם שאינן מכוונים זה מול זה “because he saw that their entrances were not facing each other.”[ii] -- even though those tents were arranged in close proximity to each other.

In other words, the Israelites who camped together in the wilderness had achieved an ideal balance of private space within cohesive community.

In our own day, mores are changing as more and more of us are willing to reveal more and more of our private information on websites and social networks. And we may question whether the balance between privacy and publicity is becoming imbalanced to our detriment.

Sometimes we have an overly optimistic idea that any information we share on the internet is safely up there in a metaphorical cloud. The folks behind the various companies and organizations on the web assure us that our information is confidential and that our personal data is used only in abstract algorithms that help them better market goods and services to us without invading our privacy.

But one wonders where it all will lead.

****************

In our Yom Kippur liturgy, it’s daunting but also in a way comforting to meditate on the Machzor’s words: Atah yode’a razei olam, veta’alumot sitrey kawl chai. Atah chofeysh kawl chadrey vaten, uvochen kelayot valeyv. Eyn davar ne’lam mimeka, v’eyn nistar mineged eynekha/ You, O God, know the mysteries of the universe, and the best kept secrets of every living thing. You search out all the innermost rooms of our life, With care You examine all our feelings, all our thoughts. Not one thing is hidden from You, nothing escapes your gaze.[iii]

And those images recall the words from the hymn Yigdal that we sing throughout the year: Tzofeh veyode’a sitareynu/ God beholds and knows our secrets.

What this means to me is that in prayer and meditation we can dig as deep as we dare because God, however we understand God, has already seen it all. And so teshuvah and mechilah/ repentance and pardon can come.

“HIney, lo yanum ve lo yishan shomer Yisra’el – Behold, the guardian of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps.”[iv]

But, it’s another story when we’re talking about the National Security Agency. I’m not sure how much I want them to know all about those innermost rooms of my life.

I have a certain sense of resignation about this. A feeling that, even though I try to lead a good, moral, upstanding life, that there’s no real privacy anymore in the face of governmental spying on its citizens. The case of Edward Snowden, the NSA leaker who now has temporary asylum status in Russia, currently divides the nation. Some have called him a traitor, others a hero. I personally tend towards the latter opinion. But no one denies that his leaks concerning the extent of governmental surveillance have brought important issues to the fore.

In the meantime, I hope that each of us, myself included, can find that sweet spot between individual integrity and communal solidarity.

Lives in which we have ties that bind yet space to breathe.

Gmar chatimah tovah, may we all be sealed in the Book of a Life for a a good year.

Shabbat shalom.

[i] Lev. 22:32

[ii] Rashi on Num. 24:5, citing Bava Batra, 60a.

[iii] Yom Kippur selichot liturgy, introduction to Al Chet.

[iv] Ps. 121:4

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Rabbi David.

Organizations Working to Help Syrian Refugees

Organizations Working to Help Syrian Refugees

When we feel powerless or helpless, it is important to remember that we can do something to help those in need. Here is a (non-exhaustive) list of organizations that you may wish to support:

http://www.shelterboxusa.org/

Shelterbox provides immediate aide to those affected by disaster, delivering the essential needs to families in need.

http://www.unicefusa.org

The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) works in 190 countries and territories to save and improve children's lives by providing health care and immunizations, clean water and sanitation, nutrition, education, emergency relief.

http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org

Doctors without Borders is currently providing medical care to Syrian refugees crossing into Iraq.

http://il4syrians.org/

An Israeli non-profit, volunteer based, NGO that delivers lifesaving aid to communities affected by natural disasters and human conflict. Its members travel to local regimes where humanitarian organizations are normally prevented entry.

http://www.savethechildren.org

Save the Children’s teams are on the ground helping to keep children safe, providing the basics they need, like food and blankets and offering programs to help them cope with tragedy.

Posted on September 12, 2013 by Rabbi David.

IT GETS BETTER

(Thoughts on Behar-Bechukotai 5773/2013)

Lev. 25:1 – 27:34

[I shared the following dvar torah with the congregation on Friday evening 5/3/13, the start of Ben W.’s bar mitzvah weekend.]

This Shabbat we are concluding the Book of Leviticus with the final double-portion of “Behar” and “Bechukotai.” Like much of Torah, these chapters contain some passages of great inspirational value – and others that make us want to hang our heads in shame at the content of our tradition. But as Jews we embrace all of it --- warts and all, so to speak – and view it as the start – not the end – of a conversation that extends across the centuries.

The Torah’s text dates from a time in world history when slavery was rampant. And our foundational story as Jews is about our liberation from the bondage of Egyptian servitude. But this week’s Torah reading seems to draw only a limited, incomplete lesson from that experience. We learn in Leviticus 25 that Israelites may not treat their Israelite slaves harshly, and that such slaves must be freed to return to their ancestral tribal holdings with the coming of the fiftieth year – the so-called Jubilee year. But as for non-Israelites, Leviticus 25:44-46 states –“…[I]t is from the nations round about you that you may acquire male and female slaves. You may also buy them from among the children of aliens resident among you, or from their families that are among you, whom they begot in your land. These shall become your property: You may keep them as a possession for your children after you, for them to inherit as property for all time. Such you may treat as slaves. But as for your Israelite kinsmen, no one shall rule ruthlessly over the other.”

Yukkhhh!!! If only we had just stopped reading after verse 8, which is so much more inspiring when it says –– וּקְרָאתֶ֥ם דְּר֛וֹר בָּאָ֖רֶץ לְכָל־יֹֽשְׁבֶ֑יהָ / ukeratem deror ba’aretz lekhawl yosh’veha/ “Proclaim Liberty throughout the land to all the inhabitants thereof.” Okay, some linguists say that the rare Hebrew word “deror” is better translated as “release” rather than “liberty.” But, still, “Proclaim release throughout the land to all the inhabitants thereof” still sounds pretty good to me. Don’t you agree?

How can we not be frustrated and ashamed by the chauvinism and immorality of the later verses of Leviticus 25 that say that this liberty, this release, doesn’t apply to non-Israelites? And indeed, how can we not be frustrated and ashamed by the failure of the Torah to abolish slavery altogether? Wouldn’t THAT have been the more appropriate lesson to draw from the story of Passover and the Exodus from Egypt?

Did not the Torah elsewhere say without equivocation that humanity is created “btzelem elohim”/”in the image of God” (Gen. 1:27) – not just Israelites, but rather all people -- all of whom it portrays as descending from that first Adahm who is created both male and female?

One traditional way of dealing with all this comes from Maimonides, writing in the twelfth century. Essentially, he argues that in a world where slavery was universally practiced, it would be too radical a shift to outlaw it all at once. Rather, God in the Torah starts with regulations that limit slavery among Israelites, with the implicit hope that ultimately this will lead to a world where it can be eradicated entirely.

A more contemporary approach, which resonates more for me personally, is that the Torah, like all scriptures of all religions, is written - so to speak – of the people, by the people and for the people. And people, then as now, don’t know everything. We progress over time in our ethics, in our understanding, in our science, in our technology, albeit not without periodic setbacks. The Torah is our collective spiritual autobiography as a people. Religion comes from the people up not from the mountaintop down.

I believe in God, but I don’t believe in a God who writes books --- whether they be the books of the Torah or the books of the Prophets or the New Testament or the Koran or the sacred books of any other religion.

Torah in particular doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It is informed by the cultural environments of the time it was written, by the cultural environments of the centuries through which it has been interpreted, and by the cultural environment of this time and place when we ourselves engage with it.

Really, I guess I could start out every single dvar torah of every single Shabbat with these thoughts I’ve just been sharing with you. And perhaps those of you who have gotten to know me a bit over the last three years already knew all this…

But it feels worth saying it again: Before we get bogged down with arguing in public forums with those who use scripture to justify discrimination against unpopular groups.

Or before we get bogged down with arguing against those who use scripture to justify cruel indifference to the needs of the poor and disenfranchised.

Or -- before we get bogged down with defending ourselves against those who denigrate all scripture as reactionary, outdated, sociopathic drivel.

Pick your issue: Tax policy, gay rights, death penalty, war, immigration, environmental protection. Yes, we have scriptural verses on our side – but so do they have on their side. You can’t look to Torah for a single answer on any political or social question. Rather, Torah is a collection of voices—just as a congregation is a collection of voices. Just as a city, a state, a nation, a world – is a collection of voices.

Ben --- I hope you will find your own voice in the collection of voices that is Torah.

And that is also my wish for every one of us. As we say in the central blessing of the Shabbat Amidah --- “veteyn chelkeynu betoratekha” – “grant us a “chelek” / a “share”/ a “portion” of your Torah.

So, in Parshat Behar-Bechukotai, for example --- the part about it being okay to have foreign slaves – that sure isn’t the “chelek”/ the “portion” the “share” that I claim.

But the part about proclaiming liberty throughout the land to all the inhabitants thereof --- that suits me better.

I hope for each of us, that when we literally hold the Torah – as Ben and some of his family members will do tomorrow morning – or when we figuratively embrace the Torah – as when we study it, and speak of it --- when we sit in our house, and when we walk on the road, and when we lie down, and when we rise up --- that we may be blessed with the ability to connect to it as etz chayim/ a tree of life … whose ways are ways of pleasantness and all of whose paths are peace.

And trust me, it gets better --- once we’re done with Leviticus.

Shabbat shalom.

Posted on May 7, 2013 by Rabbi David.

Breaking the Cycle

Dvar Torah for Parashat Bo (Exodus 10:1 – 13:16)

(given at Temple Israel, Duluth on Friday evening 1/18/13)

This week’s Torah portion, Bo, features the last three of the ten plagues. Just as in last week’s parasha, we read about God hardening Pharaoh’s heart, and we wonder about what that means for us who ascribe to a faith tradition which emphasizes that we have free will.

However, though God had told Moses in Exodus 7:3 וַאֲנִי אַקְשֶׁה, אֶת-לֵב פַּרְעֹה (“I will harden Pharaoh’s heart”), God doesn’t actually start doing so until the 6^th plague, whereas for the first 5 plagues the Torah portrays Pharaoh as hardening his own heart. The 12^th century Spanish Jewish commentator Nachmanides explains: “When God warns one on three occasions and one does not turn from one’s ways, God closes the door of repentance on that person in order to punish that person for his or her sin. Such was the case with Pharaoh.”

Viewed metaphorically, we might understand this to mean that we do indeed have free will to act virtuously or sinfully. However, if we act too immorally, for too long, it becomes a locked-in pattern of behavior that becomes harder and harder to break. As it says in Pirke Avot, the rabbinic era compendium of ethical teachings: “Mitzvah goreret mitzvah va'verah goreret averah...”/ “One mitzvah leads to another mitzvah, but one sin leads to another sin…” (Pirke Avot 4:2).

Those teachings come to mind this week as we follow the news of Oprah Winfrey’s televised interview with Lance Armstrong, the first part of which was broadcast last night.

Armstrong had denied for years the various allegations leveled at him concerning use of banned performance enhancing drugs during his cycling career. He still was proclaiming his innocence last summer, when the United States Anti-Doping agency stripped him of his seven Tour de France wins, and banned him from professional cycling. However, this week, in the wake of ever increasing evidence of his misdeeds, he changed his story.

“Mitzvah goreret mitzvah va'verah goreret averah...”/ “One mitzvah leads to another mitzvah, but one sin leads to another sin…” (Pirke Avot 4:2).

Winfrey asks: “For 13 years you didn't just deny it, you brazenly and defiantly denied everything you just admitted just now. So why now admit it? “

Armstrong responds: "That is the best question. It's the most logical question. I don't know that I have a great answer. I will start my answer by saying that this is too late. It's too late for probably most people, and that's my fault. I viewed this situation as one big lie that I repeated a lot of times, and as you said, it wasn't as if I just said no and I moved off it."

Later Winfrey asks how he viewed his own actions:

OW: Did you feel in any way that you were cheating? You did not feel you were cheating taking banned drugs?

LA: "At the time, no. I kept hearing I'm a drug cheat, I'm a cheat, I'm a cheater. I went in and just looked up the definition of cheat and the definition of cheat is to gain an advantage on a rival or foe that they don't have. I didn't view it that way. I viewed it as leveling the playing field."

*****************

I’m well aware, and I do try to take to heart the admonition, which we find elsewhere in Pirke Avot, אל תדון את חברך עד שתגיע למקומו / “Don’t judge your fellow until you have arrived in his place” (Pirke Avot 2:5), or, as it is sometimes idiomatically rendered, “Don’t judge another until you have stood in their shoes.”

My sister Robin is a serious cyclist and triathlete. Last summer I posted on her facebook wall a link to a N.Y.Times article about the latest in the Lance Armstrong saga, and I asked her what she and her cycling buddies thought about it. She said (and some her friends chimed in in agreement) that she would rather focus on Armstrong’s heroic fight against testicular cancer that preceded his Tour de France races, and on the millions he had raised for cancer research through the “Livestrong” charity.

No doubt the story will continue to develop over the coming days and weeks.

And various pundits and members of the public, and the people directly impacted by Armstrong’s actions, will come to their own conclusions about these latest developments.

Is Armstrong’s repentance genuine?

As the medieval commentator Sforno said concerning God’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart: “Had Pharaoh sincerely wanted to repent, nothing would have prevented it.” And maybe that’s the case now for Lance Armstrong.

None of us are in those big leagues of the sports world, but just like a champion athlete who over and over again faces the choice of whether or not to cheat, or an ancient Pharaoh who over and over again faces the choice of whether or not to oppress others, we face our own moral choices each day.

Psalm 95, the first of the Kabbalat Shabbat psalms in our Friday night liturgy challenges us:הַיּוֹם, אִם-בְּקֹלוֹ תִשְׁמָעוּ. / hayom, im bekolo tishma’u/ “O, if you would only hear God’s voice this day.” (Ps. 95:7)

What is that voice telling us? Whenever we are faced with a moral decision, big or small, that voice of conscience is indeed there within us “im bekolo tishma’u” --- if only we would hear it.

Inspired and challenged by the age old words of our liturgy, our times of prayer each day (and especially during the unrushed hours of Shabbat), afford us the opportunity to go deep within ourselves to find that voice.

May we indeed be graced with the fortitude to follow it in all of our moral choices, not only on this Shabbat but throughout all the days of our lives.

Shabbat shalom.

Posted on January 24, 2013 by Rabbi David.

HOLDINGS/אחוזות

Dvar Torah for Shabbat Vayigash (12/21/12; 9 Tevet 5773)

(Gen. 44:18 – 47:27)

Well, we made it. No Mayan Apocalypse today. And even better – we made it to the solstice so that the daylight hours will start getting longer again.

And we made it to another Shabbat – that “palace in time” (as Heschel describes it) which affords us “a taste of heaven” (as the sages tell us).

And we made it to another day.

And we made it to this moment.

For these miracles we give thanks.

Of course, we never know what tomorrow may bring, which is why Jewish tradition also includes such meaningful teachings as this one from Masechet Shabbat in the Talmud:

"Rabbi Eliezer would say: Repent one day before your death. His students asked Rabbi Eliezer, ‘But does a person know on which day he or she will die?’ He said to them: ‘Well, since that’s the case, one should repent today, for perhaps one will die tomorrow. Therefore, let all one’s days be passed in a state of teshuvah.” (Shabbat 153b)

At all times we should strive to be kind to one another; at all times we should strive truly to see one another as btzelem elohim/ created in the image of God.

Especially in light of the mass shootings in Connecticut last week, we are painfully aware of the fleeting nature of life, and of the necessity of treasuring each moment we share together on this planet.

At times like this we are reminded that the most important things in life are our relationships with one another, not the things we own.

And what about those things we own? At Genesis 46:27, the last verse of this week’s Torah portion, Vayigash, we learn: "Vayeshev yisra'el be'eretz mitzrayim be'eretz goshen vayei'achazu vah vayifru vayirbu me'od" which the new Jewish Publication Society Tanakh translates at Genesis 46:27 as: “Thus Israel settled in the country of Egypt, in the region of Goshen; they acquired holdings in it, and were fertile and increased greatly.” (emphasis added)

Within that verse, I’d like to focus on the phrase “Vaye’achazu vah” , translated as “they acquired holdings in it.” When I was reviewing the parashah this week, something seemed odd about that phrase to me, and I double checked my biblical Hebrew grammar and, indeed, there is something fishy about the translation.

I don’t doubt the scholarship of the team that translated the Tanakh for the Jewish Publication Society. I’m sure they’re right that, as a matter of idiomatic usage, the expression “vaye’achazu vah” can reasonably be translated as “they acquired holdings in it.”

Indeed, Ibn Ezra’s commentary back in the 12^th century says that the phrase "vayei'achazu vah" means “shekanu sham achuzah”/ “that they purchased there a holding.” However, the Torah doesn’t actually say “shekanu sham achuzah” – what it actually says is "vayei'achazu vah" using a passive conjugation of the verbal root alef-chet-zayin, which means “to hold” or “to grasp”. So, translated literally, the phrase “וַיֵּאָֽחֲז֣וּ בָ֔הּ” / vayei'achazu vah means “they were held by it.” That’s quite a difference – between “they acquired holdings in it” versus “they were held by it”….

And this reminded me of another verse in Genesis that uses a passive form of the verb alef-chet-zayin: In Genesis 22:13, in the famous story of Akedat Yitzchak/ The Binding of Isaac – Abraham looks up and sees a ram “ne’echaz basvach” – Caught in a thicket. “Ne’echaz” is also a passive form of that same verb (aleph-chet-zayin) used in Genesis 47 to describe Israelites settling in Goshen.

We know what happens after that: A new pharaoh “who knew not Joseph” arises and enslaves the Israelites for 400 years. (We get to that part of the torah two weeks from now in Parshat Shemot). In this week’s Torah reading, the bitterness of Israelite slavery is yet to come. But the scene is set here: They thought they were purchasing holdings but ---in fact --- just like the ram destined for the slaughter, they were “ne’echazim” – held/caught/ensnared/trapped by their own possessions.

I’m 51 now, and a saying I came across not too long ago sticks in my mind: Up to age 45 we try to acquire stuff – After age 45 we try to get rid of stuff.

That seems so wise to me: You don’t have to go to extremes with any of this – but – truly --- as we get older we can get ensnared/ ne’echazim/ by our possessions. The older we get, the deeper we understand that our true riches are in the connections we make with others, and in the experiences and the wisdom that we acquire in our journeys through life.

Coming back to the events of last Friday in Newtown, Connecticut, we can’t help but be struck by the tragic consequences of so many Americans’ obsession with the possession of guns. The Torah says: “וַיֵּאָֽחֲז֣וּ בָ֔הּ”/ "vayei'achazu vah"and we ask: Does this mean “they acquired holdings in it” ? Or does this mean “They were ensnared by it” ?. And similarly we ask: Isn’t it really the gun owners themselves who are ensnared -- who are “held up” by the lethal weapons they purport to hold?

And, indeed, studies have shown that the presence of a gun in one’s home, even if intended for protection, statistically increases the odds of the owner being killed[1] -- as was the case with the shooter’s own mother in Connecticut who was killed by her son using a gun she herself owned.

One of the big challenges we face in the struggle to pass effective gun control legislation is that guns have become a sort of macho identity badge. But Jewish tradition offers a different view, as we see in the following teaching from the Mishna.

As background to the following teaching, remember that traditional Jewish law, halacha, forbids the carrying of items in the public domain on Shabbat. However, if an item forms part of your clothing or jewelry, then you would be considered to be “wearing” it (which is okay) and you wouldn’t be considered as “carrying” it (which would be a halachic violation). And so we learn in the Mishnah in Masechet Shabbat, ch. 6, Mishnah 4:

ו,ד לא ייצא האיש לא בסיף, ולא בקשת, ולא בתריס, ולא באלה, ולא ברומח. ואם יצא, חייב חטאת. רבי אליעזר אומר, תכשיטין הן לו; וחכמים אומרים, אינן לו אלא גנאי, שנאמר "וכיתתו חרבותם לאיתים, וחניתותיהם למזמרות" (ישעיהו ב,ד)[.[..

A man must not go out [of the house on Shabbat] bearing a sword, nor a bow, nor a shield, nor a lance nor a spear. And if he did go out [with one of these] he is liable for a sin offering [because he has violated the final Shabbat labor, carrying]. Rabbi Eliezer says, “these are his ornaments” [like clothing or jewelry, and therefore he should be allowed to wear them]. But the Sages say [he is liable, because these are not ornaments. Rather,] these [weapons] are shameful; as it says, (Isaiah 2:4), “they shall beat their swords into plough shares and their spears into pruning-hooks”

And that verse from Isaiah quoted in the Mishnah concludes –

"lo yisa goy el goy cherev, velo yilmedu od milchamah"

"Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, and they will not learn war any more” […]

That is our prayer as well.

Shabbat shalom.

[1] http://www.bradycampaign.org/facts/gunviolence/gunsinthehome

Posted on January 3, 2013 by Rabbi David.

Thoughts on Vayishlach (Genesis 32:4 – 36:40)

(Dvar Torah given on Friday evening 11/30/12)

In this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlakh, Jacob and Esau reconcile – but it’s ambiguous how sincere that reconciliation is. In the end Esau separates from Jacob and moves to another land (as it says in Genesis 36:7) כִּי-הָיָה רְכוּשָׁם רָב, מִשֶּׁבֶת יַחְדָּו (ki hayah rechusham rav mishevet yachdav) --- “for their possessions were too many for them to dwell together…” just as Lot had separated from his uncle Abraham two generations earlier (as it says in Genesis 13:6) כִּי-הָיָה רְכוּשָׁם רָב, וְלֹא יָכְלוּ לָשֶׁבֶת יַחְדָּו.(ki hayah rechusham rav vlo yachlu lashevet yachdav) -- ^“for their possessions were so great that they could not remain together.”

Those separations were peaceful. With respect to Esau (also known as Edom) his descendants are identified in the Torah with the Edomite people living in the region of Mount Se’ir.

In the Book of Deuteronomy, we are reminded not to provoke the descendants of Esau, as Moses says in Deuteronomy chapter 2:

¹ Then the Eternal said to me: ³ You have been skirting this hill country long enough; now turn north. ⁴ And charge the people as follows: You will be passing through the territory of your kinsmen, the descendants of Esau, who live in Seir. Though they will be afraid of you, be very careful ⁵ not to provoke them. For I will not give you of their land so much as a foot can tread on; I have given the hill country of Seir as a possession to Esau.

And later in Deuteronomy, we further are told: “You shall not abhor an Edomite, for he is your kinsman.” (Deut. 23:8)

This week, we have been witnessing another iteration of this age-old theme of two peoples trying to effectuate a peaceful separation: Yesterday, on the 65^th anniversary of the United Nations General Assembly’s vote to divide the British Mandate of Palestine into two states --- one Jewish and one Arab --- the U.N. General Assembly voted to admit “Palestine” as an non-member observer state.” Previously, Palestinian interests in the UN had been represented by the Palestinian Liberation Organization, having the lesser status of “non-member observer entity." The new "non-member observer state" designation for Palestine now puts it in the same category vis-à-vis the United Nations as that of the Vatican.

Israel (along with the United States, Canada, the Czech Republic and few small Pacific Ocean island states) opposed the measure. However, it’s difficult to find rational explanations for this opposition. Mahmoud Abbas is the best friend Israel has ever had among the Palestinian leadership. He explicitly calls for a two-state solution with the State of Palestine to consist only of those territories captured by Israel in the West Bank and Gaza during the 1967 Six-Day War. This is in itself a notable concession in that Israel’s territory just before the 1967 Six Day War was already significantly larger than the territory designated for the Jewish State in the 1947 United Nations partition vote 65 years ago yesterday.

And rest assured that both Israel and the Palestinian Authority understand that ultimate borders would also involve adjusting those “just before the six day war” 1967 borders through mutually agreed land swaps.

I strongly believe that the UN vote is a step in the right direction, and the Israeli government is just shooting itself in the foot by trying to undermine the Abbas government. The more they undermine Abbas, the more they prop up the Gaza-based Hamas rejectionists who seek the destruction of Israel.

By contrast with Hamas, Abbas stated in his address to the General Assembly this week:

"We did not come here seeking to delegitimize a State established years ago, and that is Israel; rather we came to affirm the legitimacy of the State that must now achieve its independence, and that is Palestine. We did not come here to add further complications to the peace process, which Israel's policies have thrown into the intensive care unit; rather we came to launch a final serious attempt to achieve peace." http://www.voanews.com/content/mahmoud-abbas-speech-to-united-nations-general-assembly/1556084.html

Abbas further said:

"We will accept no less than the independence of the State of Palestine, with East Jerusalem as its capital, on all the Palestinian territory occupied in 1967, to live in peace and security alongside the State of Israel, and a solution for the refugee issue on the basis of resolution 194 (III), as per the operative part of the Arab Peace Initiative."

And in the concluding paragraphs of his speech he said:

"Sixty-five years ago on this day, the United Nations General Assembly adopted resolution 181 (II), which partitioned the land of historic Palestine into two States and became the birth certificate for Israel.

"Sixty-five years later and on the same day, which your esteemed body has designated as the International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People, the General Assembly stands before a moral duty, which it must not hesitate to undertake, and stands before a historic duty, which cannot endure further delay, and before a practical duty to salvage the chances for peace, which is urgent and cannot be postponed.

[…]

"The General Assembly is called upon today to issue a birth certificate of the reality of the State of Palestine."

Israel complains that the PA has bypassed the Camp David accords' mechanism of direct negotiations by going to the United Nations. But those Camp David Accords also said there would be a Palestinian state within 5 years, and that's now almost 20 years ago.

Israel says the PA should come back to the negotiating table without preconditions. But it's hardly an unreasonable precondition for the PA to insist upon Israel freezing settlement expansion on the West Bank while negotiations proceed.

The future of the region should not be held hostage to the extremists on either side of the conflict.

Abbas is no extremist and needs to be supported.

And what has the Israeli government done today, the day after the historic UN vote? It has chosen today to approve additional settlement building in the area known as “E1” – an area of parkland that provides the last contiguous link between Ramallah and Bethlehem in any future Palestinian state on the West Bank. I love Israel. I want it to live and prosper in peace. But, honestly, who is now provoking whom?

Back in Parashat Vayishlakh, the separation of Jacob and Esau is followed by a set of genealogical tables of Esau’s descendants. We find there the notice that Timna, a concubine of Esau’s son Eliphaz, was the mother of Amalek (Gen. 36:12). Later in the chapter we also learn that Timna was Lotan’s sister, and that Lotan was a son of Seir, the original leader of the land before the arrival of Esau’s retinue when Esau separated from Jacob. (Gen. 36: 20-22).

And later in the chapter, “Timna” is named as one of “shemot alufey Esav”/ “the names of the ‘alufs’ of Esau.” (Gen. 36:40). What is an “aluf?” Biblical scholars generally define “aluf” as “clan”, i.e., a subset of a tribe. But there is also an old tradition that “aluf” is a title of nobility.

And so we come to a striking passage from the Talmud that presents a midrash about this woman Timna:

אחות לוטן תמנע מאי היא תמנע בת מלכים הואי דכתיב אלוף לוטן אלוף תמנע וכל אלוף מלכותא בלא תאגא היא בעיא לאיגיורי באתה אצל אברהם יצחק ויעקב ולא קבלוה הלכה והיתה פילגש לאליפז בן עשו אמרה מוטב תהא שפחה לאומה זו ולא תהא גבירה לאומה אחרת נפק מינה עמלק דצערינהו לישראל מאי טעמא דלא איבעי להו לרחקה

“Lotan's sister was Timna”(Gen. 36:22)? — what [is the purpose of writing] this? --- Timna was a royal princess, as it is written, “aluf Lotan” (Gen. 36:28), “aluf Timna;” (Gen. 36:40) and by 'aluf' an uncrowned ruler is meant. Desiring to become a proselyte, she went to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but they did not accept her. So she went and became a concubine to Eliphaz the son of Esau, saying, “I had rather be a servant to this people than a mistress of another nation.” From her Amalek was descended who afflicted Israel. Why so? — Because they should not have repulsed her." (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Sanhedrin, page 99b)

What can we learn from this that can inform our contemporary situation?

Who knows if the writers of the Talmud were simply making up imaginative tales when they told this one about Timna having been pushed away by Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

Frankly, like much in the Talmud or in the Torah itself, it sounds apocryphal and not historically factual. But I think the Talmudic sages did have a sensible intuition:

That sensible intuition is that hatred doesn’t simply arise out of the blue, even the vicious kind associated with Amalek – who Jewish tradition sees as the ancestor of Haman.

There is enough hate and enough ill feelings and grudges going around to stymie any attempt at the peaceful settlement of differences, whether in the Middle East, or in other troubled regions of the world, or even, on a personal level, in many families.

But in Psalm 34 we are taught “bakesh shalom v’rodfeihu”/ “seek peace and pursue it.” (Ps. 34:15). We should always strive to be “rodfei shalom” --- “those who chase after opportunities for peace.” The vote this week in the General Assembly provides such an opportunity. Rather than spurn it, let us pray that Israel and its allies pursue it.

The Talmud says that Timna was spurned by Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and gave birth to the viciousness of Amalek --- and that ---- לא איבעי להו לרחקה (lo iba’ey lehu lirchokah) -- “They should not have repulsed her.”

Similarly, the peaceful approach of Mahmoud Abbas and the not-yet-fully-birthed State of Palestine ought not to be repulsed by the State of Israel -- the State that got its birth certificate 65 years ago this week – the State that sees its lineage as going back to the patriarchs and matriarchs.

Nor should those who seek peace be spurned by we who count ourselves among the children of Israel.

Shabbat shalom.

Posted on December 4, 2012 by Rabbi David.

Dvar Torah for Shabbat Chayei Sarah

(delivered on Friday evening, 11/9/12 [25 Cheshvan 5773])

Near the end of this week’s Torah portion, Chayei Sarah (Gen. 23:1 – 25:18), we read of Abraham’s final years, after the death and burial of Sarah, and after the marriage of Isaac and Rebecca.

We learn in Gen 25:1 that Abraham takes another wife, named Keturah. The Torah text doesn't tell us anything else about Keturah --- but Jewish midrashic tradition steps in as it often does to try to fill in some of the blanks:

In the classic rabbinic midrash collection, Bereshit Rabba, we learn that this Keturah was none other than Hagar, the mother of Abraham’s first son Ishmael. Hagar and Ishmael had been sent away years before, but, according to this midrashic version, Abraham called Hagar back to be with him in his final years after the death of her rival Sarah.

The medieval commentator Rashi states that the name Keturah comes from the fact that her deeds were as beautiful as the "Ketoret" or “incense” that would be used in the ancient Temple.

Some contemporary scholars suggest that the name Ketura means that she was connected by family ties to the incense and spice traders of eastern Arabia. In the modern commentary "The Five Books of Miriam", Ellen Frankel connects the name "Keturah" with "Keter" meaning crown or wreath --- suggesting that Keturah was a princess.

Rashi also quotes another midrash that connects the name Keturah with the Aramaic verb "ketar", meaning “to tie” According to this midrash Keturah had "tied" her womb, and not been sexually involved with any other man from the time that she had separated from Abraham years before.

We may or may not find these midrashic flights of fancy convincing. Indeed, other medieval commentators dispute the identification of Keturah with Hagar. However, I personally find it very moving to imagine that Keturah was Hagar. This means that Abraham's life could end on a note of reconciliation after the various crises and trials that he had lived through in the decades before.

And perhaps this explains how, a few verses later at Gen. 25:9, it can happen that Isaac and Ishmael bury their father together. Perhaps there is a long hoped for reconciliation there too. And, if not a full-scale reconciliation, at least it shows that they were capable of joining together to address a common task.

As we read in the Torah tonight of this reconciliation within the family of Abraham, it’s tempting to follow the typical homiletic spin of also praying for reconciliation among the various political factions within our country. That’s a worthwhile aspiration in the sense of hoping that we can all respect one another’s humanity, and that we can all ascribe sincere motivations to one another’s actions.

Indeed, during this heated battle in Minnesota to defeat the attempt to impose homophobic discrimination into the State Constitution, we were encouraged to pursue a strategy of conversation – of getting to know our ideological opponents on a personal level in the hope that this would lead to reconciliation around a shared belief in fairness for all.

And from this week’s Torah portion, we could even claim that conversation is itself a form of prayer. Our sages say that Mincha, the daily afternoon prayer, was first initiated by Isaac, basing their claim on Gen. 24:63 ---

וַיֵּצֵא יִצְחָק לָשׂוּחַ בַּשָּׂדֶה, לִפְנוֹת עָרֶב

“Isaac went out to meditate in the field towards evening” --

and the verb “lasu’ach” – here translated as “to meditate” also has the meaning of “to converse.”

However, speaking personally, with the conclusion of this election cycle I feel massively relieved but deeply bruised. In Minnesota and elsewhere, this year we witnessed attempts to turn the clock back on civil rights for those already facing discrimination, and we faced off against attempts to suppress voter participation for those already hindered by economic adversity. And we saw attempts to destroy the societal safety net in order to coddle the rich. Thankfully, we defeated those attempts.

And now, as we face the future, reconciliation on a personal level is important, but such reconciliation should not desensitize us from the need to continue struggling for justice and equity in society. When it comes to those goals, there is a fine line between compromise and caving in. I hope and pray that we don’t cave in, and that we continue the good fight.

Shabbat shalom.

Posted on November 14, 2012 by Rabbi David.

Sign up for: