FUGGEDABOUTIT!

Thoughts on Ki Tetze (Deuteronomy 21:10 – 25:9)

(Dvar Torah given at Temple Israel on Friday evening 8/28/20)

This week’s Torah portion, Ki Tetze, has the distinction of containing more mitzvot in it than any other parasha – 72 to be exact, according to Maimonides’ counting.

I want to focus this evening on the particular mitzvah stated in Deuteronomy 24:19 ---

כִּ֣י תִקְצֹר֩ קְצִֽירְךָ֨ בְשָׂדֶ֜ךָ וְשָֽׁכַחְתָּ֧ עֹ֣מֶר בַּשָּׂדֶ֗ה לֹ֤א תָשׁוּב֙ לְקַחְתּ֔וֹ לַגֵּ֛ר לַיָּת֥וֹם וְלָאַלְמָנָ֖ה יִהְיֶ֑ה לְמַ֤עַן יְבָרֶכְךָ֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ בְּכֹ֖ל מַעֲשֵׂ֥ה יָדֶֽיךָ׃

"When you reap the harvest in your field and you forget a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the orphan and the widow – in order that Adonai your God may bless you in all your undertakings."

At first glance, this seems like a wonderful, straightforward sort of law.  It seems to show a praiseworthy sensitivity to the needs of the poor.  Indeed, some of you will no doubt recognize this mitzvah from its description in the Book of Ruth, traditionally read on Shavuot:  Ruth and her mother-in-law Naomi have fled from famine in Moab back to Naomi’s birthplace in Jewish Bethlehem.  Chapter 2 of Megillat Rut describes Ruth gleaning behind the reapers in the fields of her kinsman Boaz.

However, closer examination of the mitzvah of the forgotten sheaf reveals two major difficulties:

First, from a practical standpoint, this is a pretty half-baked way of providing a safety net for the poor.  There may very well not be enough of these forgotten sheaves to provide the basic food supplies of those who are in need.  For example, in the case of Ruth, Boaz ultimately needs to load her down with another six measures of barley in order to be confident that she has enough for her needs (Ruth 3:15).  That’s why the Jewish mitzvah of tzedakah extends far behind the provisions of this particular mitzvah of the forgotten sheaf.

Secondly, from a religious standpoint, what sort of a mitzvah is this that can ONLY be fulfilled UNINTENTIONALLY?  Isn’t it true that one of the most important pillars of Judaism is that human beings have free will   --- free will to choose how and whether to fulfill the commandments that tradition says were given to us by God?

A classic midrash from the Tosefta illustrates this conundrum.  It goes like this:

"A story is told of a pious man who forgot a sheaf in his field.  He said to his son – Go and offer a bull for a burnt-offering and a bull for a peace-offering.  [His son] answered: Father! What makes you want to rejoice in this mitzvah more than in all others in the Torah?  [His father] said to him: The Omnipresent has given all the other mitzvot in the Torah to be observed consciously.  But this one is to be unconsciously observed.  Were we to observe this one of our own deliberate freewill before the Omnipresent, we would have no opportunity of observing it! Rather [scripture] says –“When you reap your harvest and have forgotten a sheaf in the field…” (Tosefta, Peah 3:8)   

So, what ARE we, religiously speaking, to make of a mitzvah that you can’t carry out intentionally?  The "punchline," as it were, of the midrash spells it out:

“Scripture ordains for this a blessing.  Have we not here a kal vechomer (a fortiori) argument?  If when a person has no deliberate intention of performing a good deed it is nevertheless reckoned to that person as a good deed, how much more so when one deliberately performs a good deed?”

In other words, the purpose of this "unintentional mitzvah" is to sensitize us to the even greater importance of doing "intentional mitzvot!"  

I think we can derive an additional lesson from this ----

There are times in each of our lives when, even without consciously realizing it, we are doing good deeds, we are helping others, we are forging connections with God, we are making the world a better place --- just like that farmer in our Torah portion who unwittingly did a mitzvah by “forgetting” to gather some sheaves of the harvest.

So, if you are ever feeling like your life doesn’t matter, like your existence makes no difference in the world --- then this mitzvah of the forgotten sheaf inspires us to give ourselves a second look.  Each of us DOES matter.  Each of us DOES make a difference in the world, even when we don’t have the ability to perceive the subtle ways in which our presence is felt.  Each of us have helped others even when we didn’t know we were doing so.

This realization helps ground us as we approach the new year, as we examine our deeds of this year that is ending. For in this season of teshuvah (return), we are not starting from scratch.    Surely, just as God, as it were,  knows our faults, God must also know how each of us has been a blessing --- even when we didn’t know it.

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

August 2020/ Elul 5780

SOME THINGS ARE PUZZLING -- SOME THINGS NOT

Thoughts on Chukkat  5780/2020

(Dvar Torah given Friday 6/26/20)

Our Torah Portion this week, Parashat Chukkat, begins with the description of a strange sacrificial ritual involving פָרָ֨ה אֲדֻמָּ֜ה תְּמִימָ֗ה אֲשֶׁ֤ר אֵֽין־בָּהּ֙ מ֔וּם אֲשֶׁ֛ר לֹא־עָלָ֥ה עָלֶ֖יהָ עֹֽל / “Parah adamah temimah asher eyn bah mum, asher lo alah aleyha  ol”/ “a red cow without blemish, in which there is no defect and on which no yoke has been laid” (Num. 19:2).  The ashes of said cow, after being mixed with other special ingredients, would be sprinkled on a person who had become ritually impure as a result of being in proximity with a corpse.

This treatment would serve to return a person back to a state of ritual purity so that they could be permitted to enter the holy precincts of the Tabernacle or Temple and so that they could be permitted to partake of sacrificial offerings.  

You may recall that this passage is also read, as an additional maftir reading on a second Torah scroll, on “Shabbat Parah” --- the special Sabbath that arrives each year about three weeks before Passover.  Its liturgical usage in that context reminds us to start getting ourselves and our houses ready for Passover.

For me this year, the passage has special resonance because that maftir reading of Numbers chapter 19, the law of the Red Heifer, was the last Torah passage we read in an in-person Shabbat morning service in our Temple Israel sanctuary before we suspended services on account of the Covid-19 pandemic. 

How poignant it is now, when that reading comes around in the annual cycle of weekly Torah portions, to think about all of the precautions we are now taking – all the masks, the social distancing, the intensified sanitizing…  We’re doing this to protect ourselves from the contamination of Covid-19.  Our ancestors were trying to protect themselves from what they saw as the ritual impurity associated with coming in contact with death.  As it says in Parashat Chukkat ---

זֹ֚את הַתּוֹרָ֔ה אָדָ֖ם כִּֽי־יָמ֣וּת בְּאֹ֑הֶל כָּל־הַבָּ֤א אֶל־הָאֹ֙הֶל֙ וְכָל־אֲשֶׁ֣ר בָּאֹ֔הֶל יִטְמָ֖א שִׁבְעַ֥ת יָמִֽים׃

וְכֹל֙ כְּלִ֣י פָת֔וּחַ אֲשֶׁ֛ר אֵין־צָמִ֥יד פָּתִ֖יל עָלָ֑יו טָמֵ֖א הֽוּא׃

וְכֹ֨ל אֲשֶׁר־יִגַּ֜ע עַל־פְּנֵ֣י הַשָּׂדֶ֗ה בַּֽחֲלַל־חֶ֙רֶב֙ א֣וֹ בְמֵ֔ת אֽוֹ־בְעֶ֥צֶם אָדָ֖ם א֣וֹ בְקָ֑בֶר יִטְמָ֖א שִׁבְעַ֥ת יָמִֽים׃

This is the ritual: When a person dies in a tent, whoever enters the tent and whoever is in the tent shall be impure seven days; and every open vessel, with no lid fastened down, shall be impure.  And anyone who touches, in an open field, one slain by the sword, a corpse, a human bone, or a grave shall be impure seven days. (Num. 19: 14-16)

We have sound, easily understandable reasons for our contemporary precautions against the coronavirus.

As the Minnesota Department of Health reminds us:

·         People can spread the COVID-19 disease to each other.

·         The disease is thought to spread by nose and mouth droplets when someone who is infected coughs, sneezes or exhales.

·         The droplets can land in the mouths or noses of people nearby. It may be possible for people to breathe the droplets into their lungs. It is important to stay 6 feet away from other people in public. At home, someone who is sick should stay alone, in one room, as much as possible.

·         Droplets can land on surfaces and objects that other people then touch. It is important to wash your hands before you touch your mouth, nose, face or eyes. Clean surfaces that are touched often. Clean surfaces often if someone in the house is sick.

·         Infected people may be able to spread the disease before they have symptoms or feel sick.[1]

And further, they remind us that

·        Wear[ing] a cloth mask over your nose and mouth in grocery stores and all other public places where it is hard to stay 6 feet away from others.[…] can help to stop your germs from infecting others. This is extra important [since] people without symptoms can spread the virus that causes COVID-19 disease.[2]

None of this is puzzling if we “follow the science.”

By contrast, Jewish commentators over the centuries have been puzzled as to why sprinkling red cow ashes mixed with spring water would take away ritual impurity. They also were puzzled about how it could be that the same mixture that made the impure person pure simultaneously made the pure person who had administered the procedure impure.

No less a personage than King Solomon, praised for his wisdom, is described in a classic midrash as being stumped.  As we learn from Midrash Tanchuma:

Solomon said, “About all these things I have knowledge; but in the case of the parashah on the red heifer, I have investigated it, inquired into it, and examined it. Still (at the end of the verse in Eccl. 7:23), ‘I thought I could fathom it, but it eludes me.’” [3]

But that’s the whole point – say the sages of the Talmud and later commentators like Rashi:

The ritual of the Parah Adamah/Red Heifer is introduced in our parasha as “chukat hatorah” --- “the chukah of the Torah.” The term “chukah” (חקה)  (or its variant “chok”) is generally described in Jewish thought as referring to a law that has no obvious rational meaning.  As the classic commentary asserts --- God simply declares “I have decreed it, and you are not permitted to question it.” (Rashi on Num. 19:2)

For those of us of a liberal religious bent, we certainly do question any claims of Biblical inerrancy.  Our sacred texts were written by people.  And even the religious traditionalists acknowledge that even if it is God’s word, it’s still transmitted through imperfect human language by imperfect humans.  So, things get lost in translation --- or, to put it another way – some things just aren’t even capable of being expressed in human language.

This Torah portion --- the law of the Parah Adamah/ The Red Heifer – then invites us to sit with a basic existential question:

In the face of death, in the face of mysteries that are beyond our comprehension, what do we believe?

Do we believe that there is no meaning in life so that there is ultimately nothing to understand?

Or do we believe that there is infinite meaning in life  -- so that ultimately we should cultivate a stance of religious awe, rather than a stance of cynical nihilism.

The ancient Greek philosopher Socrates is famously credited with declaring
“I know nothing but the fact of my own ignorance.”

Judaism seems to agree with that to a certain extent, at least with subjects like the law of the Red Heifer.

But what do we know?

Some wise words were penned on this subject by the early 20th-century British Jewish communal leader Lily Montague and I’ll conclude these parashah thoughts with her words:

I find by experience, not by reasoning,

but by my own discovery that God is near me,

and I can be near God at all times.

I cannot explain it, but I am as sure of my experience

As I am of the fact that I live and love.

I cannot explain how I have come to lie and love,

But I know I do.

In the same way, I know I am in contact with God.[4]

Shabbat shalom.

(c) Rabbi David Steinberg (June 2020/ Tammuz 5780)

[1] https://www.health.state.mn.us/diseases/coronavirus/basics.html

[2] https://www.health.state.mn.us/diseases/coronavirus/prevention.html

[3] https://www.sefaria.org/Midrash_Tanchuma%2C_Chukat.6.1?lang=bi&with=all&lang2=en

[4] Quoted in Mishkan T’Filah: A Reform Siddur (Shabbat edition), p. 91.

THOUGHTS ON KORACH

(Num. 16:1 – 18:29)

Dvar Torah delivered on Friday evening 6/19/20

This week’s Torah portion is Parashat
Korach.  It tells the story of a major
rebellion against the authority of Moses that takes place within the Israelite
camp during the second year after the Exodus from Egypt.

Korach’s rebellion is really two
stories in one. Literary critics theorize that there were two separate stories
passed down through the ages. One story was a story of Moses’s and Aaron’s
cousin Korach and his Levite followers complaining that they should get to be
Kohanim/Priests like Aaron and his family.

A second story is about Datan and Aviram,
from the tribe of Reuben leading a revolt on behalf of a varied constellation
of Israelites who are entirely fed up with Moses’s leadership and want to
return to Egypt. 

Later editors synthesized the two
stories into a single narrative.  In the
synthesized narrative, Korach is portrayed as the leader of both camps.

Or, from a more traditionalist
viewpoint, this is all one story about one rebellion encompassing varying
subgroups, each with their own grievances.

However we approach the genesis of the
tale, the standard, mainstream, traditional rabbinic line on what to make of
this story is that it is a paradigm for the concept of makhloket shelo
beshem shamayim. --- a dispute that is not for the sake of Heaven. 

As it says in Pirke Avot in the Mishna:  "Any dispute which is for the sake of
Heaven will ultimately be of enduring value, and one which is not for the sake
of Heaven will not be of enduring value. What is a dispute for the sake of
Heaven? This is a debate between Hillel and Shammai. What is a dispute not for
the sake of Heaven? This is the dispute of Korach and his assembly." 
(Pirke Avot 5:20)

What did the rabbinic era sages have
against Korach?  They regarded him as a power-hungry
demagogue.  They thought he was simply
lusting after power and was not being honest when he complained to Moses:

רַב־לָכֶם֒ כִּ֤י
כָל־הָֽעֵדָה֙ כֻּלָּ֣ם קְדֹשִׁ֔ים וּבְתוֹכָ֖ם יְהוָ֑ה וּמַדּ֥וּעַ
תִּֽתְנַשְּׂא֖וּ עַל־קְהַ֥ל יְהוָֽה׃

“You have gone
too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and Adonai is in their
midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above Adonai’s congregation?” (Num. 16:3)

As for the masses of people following
the ringleaders in rebellion against Moses and Aaron, their complaint ---
expressed by the words of Datan and Aviram -- 
is even more pointed:

הַמְעַ֗ט כִּ֤י
הֶֽעֱלִיתָ֙נוּ֙ מֵאֶ֨רֶץ זָבַ֤ת חָלָב֙ וּדְבַ֔שׁ לַהֲמִיתֵ֖נוּ בַּמִּדְבָּ֑ר
כִּֽי־תִשְׂתָּרֵ֥ר עָלֵ֖ינוּ גַּם־הִשְׂתָּרֵֽר׃

“Is it not enough
that you brought us from a land flowing with milk and honey to have us die in
the wilderness, that you would also lord it over us?” (Num. 16-13)

Yes, I know it seems crazy that they
would refer to EGYPT as a “land of milk and honey” – but for them it seemed
like Moses and Aaron’s leadership was only going to result in death and more
death.  Egypt was looking better by the
day.

You can read the story for yourself,
but the denouement is that those who dare to question the ruling authorities
wind up either consumed by fire or swallowed up into the bowels of the earth.

That’ll teach ‘em.

One wonders how it all came to this.

Certainly, the people have been a
bunch of complainers and kvetchers from the very start --- both before and
after the departure from Egypt.

However, this time around they’ve
reached the end of their patience.  In
last week’s Torah portion, Parashat Shelakh Lekha, after the pessimistic report
of the spies had angered God, God had decreed that the entire generation who
had left Egypt (or at least everyone age 20 and over)  would die out in the wilderness, and only a
subsequent generation would get to complete the journey to Eretz Yisrael. 

And then, after that, in a chilling
incident that we tend to gloss over when we read Parashat Shelakh Lekha each
year, an Israelite man is stoned to death for the crime of gathering sticks on
the Sabbath.  As we read in Numbers
15:32-36.

“Once, when the Israelites were in the wilderness, they came upon a man
gathering wood on the sabbath day. Those who found him as he was gathering wood
brought him before Moses, Aaron, and the whole community. He was placed in
custody, for it had not been specified what should be done to him. Then Adonai said
to Moses, ‘The man shall be put to death: the whole community shall pelt him
with stones outside the camp.’ So the whole community took him outside the camp
and stoned him to death—as Adonai had commanded Moses.”

Rabbi Elyse Frishman in an essay in the volume “The Women’s Torah
Commentary” observes:

“The punishment of stoning the wood gatherer is the first and only incident
of capital punishment actually applied in the Torah.  The episode must have been devastating for
the people.” [1]

The poor wood gatherer remains nameless in the Torah.  But a later midrash says that the wood gatherer
who was stoned to death was Tzelophchad, whose daughters would later be moved
to activism against the inequities of the inheritance system.[2] 

Sure, the rules were set out for all to hear, but the killing of the wood
gatherer always strikes me as more of a lynching than any preservation of law
and order.

So maybe those who joined Korach in a struggle against the status quo were
infuriated by the lynching of the wood gatherer.  Just as today, multitudes of Americans are
rising up against the status quo in fury over the police killings that amount
to lynchings in our own day.

The wood gatherer is unnamed in the Torah – but as for those of our day –
we can and should say their names.  Those
names include, among others:

Eric Garner 

Ezell Ford

Michelle Cusseaux

Tanisha Anderson

Tamir Rice

Natasha McKenna

Walter Scott

Bettie Jones

Philando Castile

Botham Jean

Atatiana Jefferson 

Eric Reason 

Dominique Clayton 

Breonna Taylor 

George Floyd 

Rayshard Brooks.

No doubt, Parashat Korach presents us with a complicated and ambiguous mix
of ambivalent messages when it comes to questions of authority, hierarchy and
justice. 

But this time around I’m rooting for the rebels.

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

June 2020/ Sivan 5780

[1] Rabbi Elyse Frishman, “Korach: Authority, Status, Power” in The Women’s
Torah Commentary: New Insights from Women Rabbis on the 54 Weekly Torah
Portions, Rabbi Elyse Goldstein, editor (Jewish Lights Publishing, 2000),
pp. 286-87.

[2] Numbers 27: 1-11; T.B Shabbat 96b.

RABBI DAVID'S JUNE 2020 BULLETIN ARTICLE

Throughout the month of June this year we find ourselves in the Book of Numbers in our lectionary
cycle of weekly Torah readings.  This fourth book of the Torah, called “Sefer Bemidbar” in Hebrew, is probably
my favorite of the five books.  It contains beautiful prayers like the priestly blessing:

“May the Eternal bless you and protect you!
May the Eternal deal kindly and graciously with you!
May the Eternal bestow divine favor upon you and grant you peace!”

(Num. 6: 24-26)

And it includes teachings about the importance of learning from everyone, as when Moses berates
Joshua for wanting to jail the young upstarts Eldad and Medad for unauthorized prophesying:

“And Joshua son of Nun, Moses' attendant from his youth, spoke up and said, ‘My lord Moses,
restrain them!’ But Moses said to him, "Are you wrought up on my account? Would that all the Eternal's people were prophets, that the Eternal put the divine spirit upon them!"

 (Num. 11:28-29)

And it contains the list of way stations through the forty-year wilderness journey through
Sinai (Num. 33: 1-49), a passage that has the feel of an incantation when chanted in Hebrew or read in English.  Rashi and other commentators teach that the long list of starting and stopping points in Numbers 33 is there to remind us of God’s kindness and providence at each stage of our life journeys – a teaching that is very much near the heart of my own Jewish spirituality.

But perhaps the profundity of the Book of Numbers can be most readily found in its very
title.  Not the English title, but the Hebrew title – “Bemidbar” [במדבר]    which means “In the wilderness”  (or, more accurately, “In the wilderness of…”, the start of the noun phrase “Bemidbar Sinai”/ “In the wilderness
of Sinai.”

The word “midbar”/מדבר (“wilderness”) is derived from the Hebrew root letters dalet-bet-resh/ דבר, a Hebrew root whose primary meaning is “speak.” (For example, “Ani medaber ivrit” [for a male] or “Ani medaberet ivrit” [for a female] is the way you say “I speak Hebrew” in Hebrew, and the word “dibbur” [דיבור] means “speech” or “utterance.”)    

I visited the Sinai Peninsula back in December 1981, during my first trip to Israel when I was a college junior.  I can well imagine how being in that midbar - that wilderness - could become connected in our ancestors’ understanding with the ultimate dibbur – the ultimate “speaking” --  that our tradition calls “Torah.”

This year, the concept of midbar/wilderness has an added, metaphorical significance for
all of us.  We are still in the midst of a deadly pandemic – and our efforts to deal with it – personally, locally,
nationally and globally – have left us feeling unmoored and disoriented, as if we too were wandering in a wilderness. Our tradition teaches that the Shechinah – God’s immanent presence – did not desert us during that temporary Sinai sojourn.  We are not being deserted now either – and we are not deserting one another. 
Our faith reminds us that we remain connected though our methods for connecting have to be adjusted for the time being. 

Please let us all continue to do our part by staying safe as we enter the summer season.   And thank you to everyone who has been reaching out to fellow congregants, and other neighbors and friends during this
challenging time.    

L’shalom,

Rabbi David Steinberg

rabbidavid@jewishduluth.org

RABBI DAVID'S MAY 2020 TEMPLE ISRAEL BULLETIN ARTICLE

[Note: Since this article was published in our Bulletin at the beginning of May, the continued pandemic has led us to continue keeping our building closed. Zoom Shabbat services are now taking place, but we decided to postpone the Confirmation service until we are doing in-person services again. In the meantime, please enjoy this article that talks about the connection between Shavuot and Confirmation. Chag Shavuot Same’ach — DS 5/28/20]

Shavuot (along with Passover and Sukkot) is one of the Shalosh Regalim/ the "Three Pilgrimage Festivals" of the Jewish religion.   The Torah speaks of it as an agricultural festival ("Chag Habikkurim"/"Festival of First Fruits"), but rabbinic tradition early on identified it with “Zeman Matan Torateynu” / “The Time of the giving of our Torah.” 

 A classic midrash imagines God being reluctant to present this gift unless it would be appreciated by its recipients:

 At Sinai, when the Jewish people were ready to receive the Torah, God said to them, “What? Am I supposed to give you the Torah without any security? Bring some good guarantors that you will keep it properly, and I will give it to you.” They said: “Our ancestors will be our guarantors.” God said: “They themselves need a guarantor!” […] They said: “Our prophets will be our guarantors.” God said: I have complaints against them, too […]” They said: “Then our children will be our guarantors.” God said: “Now, those are good guarantors!” (Shir Hashirim Rabbah 4:1) 

 Since its institution by Reform Judaism in the 19th century, Confirmation has been an occasion for young men and women to acknowledge publicly that they are in fact prepared to be such guarantors. 

 At the time that I am writing this article (April 23rd), our current moratorium on in-person gatherings at Temple Israel is in place until May 14th and our Shavuot/Confirmation service, at which Sam B. and David W. are scheduled to be confirmed, is scheduled to take place during the Friday night service on May 29th.  

 However, it seems entirely possible that our closure might be extended beyond May 14th, and conceivably beyond May 29th.  It is difficult to know for sure at this moment. So please stay tuned for further announcements after the Temple Board next meets on May 14th about plans beyond that date.  If our closure continues beyond May 29th then the current plan is that Confirmation would be rescheduled to coincide with our next in-person Friday night service.  That would make that first time back in the sanctuary that much more special and festive! 

As for Shavuot (which actually begins at sundown on Thursday, May 28th), I’m currently consulting with my colleagues in the Minnesota Rabbinical Association about the possibility of scheduling a virtual statewide “Tikkun Leyl Shavuot” program. This would be a late-night study session on Thursday, May 28th to take place over Zoom, with various presenters from several Minnesota congregations leading mini-lessons on a variety of Jewish topics. If we do end up scheduling this, further information will be forthcoming.  [Note: Since this article was published my plans have changed. Instead of the MRA program, I will be participating in a Tikkun Leyl Shavuot program of the Reconstructionist Movement. Details can be found here: https://www.reconstructingjudaism.org/news/shavuot-coming-together-across-globe-learn-through-night-our-homes ] 

(And here is a link to an article that gives further information about the custom of “Tikkun Leyl Shavuot”:  https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/tikkun-leil-shavuot/ ) 

 In the meantime, may we all stay safe and healthy during these stressful times. Whether we end up being together in person by the end of May, or whether we are continuing to maintain physical distancing at that point, may we all have a happy Shavuot --- and we look forward to being able to say mazal tov to our confirmands soon.  

 Chag Same’ach, 

Rabbi David Steinberg 

<rabbidavid@jewishduluth.org> 

PROGRESSIVE ZIONISM PEP TALK

Sermon for Yom Kippur morning 5780

October 9, 2019

The program booklet you have in front of you includes a brief overview of the Yom Kippur liturgy. And I wrote a similar overview in the program booklet for Rosh Hashanah that we distributed last week.  I hope you have found these useful.  In previous years I had gotten feedback that people wanted me to provide this sort of information from the bima.  Frankly, I had often found that when I did do that it disrupted the flow of the service.  So, this year, instead of talking a lot from the bima about the structure of the services, I thought I would rather put it all down in writing for you to peruse at your leisure.

In any event, when I decided to write those liturgical overviews for the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur program flyers it seemed very clear to me that the first thing I should write about was the Shema, and, in particular, the first line of the Shema. 

So much is wrapped up into that one Biblical verse, Deuteronomy Chapter 6, verse 4:

SHEMA YISRAEL ADONAI ELOHEINU ADONAI ECHAD

You’ve got your dynamic between the two names for the Deity --  ADONAI (which the sages say represents divine compassion and mercy) and ELOHIM (which the sages say represents divine judgment and justice).  And that dichotomy prompts all of us to reflect on how those values should be balanced in our own lives.

(HINT:  When in doubt, opt for compassion….)

And you’ve got your dynamic between universalism and particularism: 

On the one hand, the monotheism proclaimed in the Shema is the epitome of universality: There is only One God :   One God who has created all of existence including our one home planet and our one human species. 

We --- the global “we” --- are all in this together. 

Or as Rabbi Maurice Eisendrath, who for some three decades was the President of the Union of American Hebrew Congregations (as the Union for Reform Judaism used to be known), expressed it (and please excuse the dated language which is not as explicitly inclusive as we would express it today):

“Judaism gave mankind its first civil rights program. It was expressed in the Sh’ma, the watchword of the Jewish faith: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.” As God is one, mankind is one, for each is created equally in the image of God.” (See https://rac.org/shma-vahavta)

But on the other hand, there is also the particularist aspect of the Shema. 

For that first line of the Shema is not addressed to all humanity but rather, to one particular subset of humanity, i.e. our particular subset of humanity.  As it says:

Shema YISRAEL – Listen Israel, Listen Jewish people – Moses is saying -- I’m talking to YOU  --- YISRAEL --  in particular! 

All humanity are brothers and sisters, all humanity shares in the responsibility to take care of this one precious world in which we live.

But you, Israel – or –when we recite the Shema ourselves let’s make that – WE Israel – we the Jewish people – have a bond with one another, have a common history, have a common destiny, have --- God willing – a common purpose.

Why are we Jews dispersed among all the other nations of the world?

From a purely non-theological perspective, we can blame the persecutions of one ancient empire after another and one modern nation-state after another.  And we can also factor in the various economic push and pull factors that have informed mass migrations of millions from ancient times to the present day. 

During the rabbinic and medieval periods, the dominant philosophical view among our people was to put the blame on ourselves for being tossed and buffeted about the world. 

A classic line in the traditional liturgy declares --- umipnei chata’einu galinu mey’artzenu --- “because of our sins we were exiled from our land.”

That theological claim has been expunged from Reform and Reconstructionist machzorim and siddurim.  As theologically liberal Jews we generally do not buy into that “blame the victim” mentality when it comes to our people’s history of exile and dispersion.

A more optimistic view regarding the nature of the diaspora takes as its starting point Biblical verses like those found in the second half of the book of Isaiah. 

Addressing the Judean exiles in Babylonia after the Destruction of the First Temple in the sixth century BCE, Isaiah 42:6  proclaims: 

אֲנִ֧י יְ-ה-וָ֛-ה קְרָאתִ֥יךָֽ בְצֶ֖דֶק וְאַחְזֵ֣ק בְּיָדֶ֑ךָ וְאֶצָּרְךָ֗ וְאֶתֶּנְךָ֛ לִבְרִ֥ית עָ֖ם לְא֥וֹר גּוֹיִֽם׃

I the Eternal have called you in righteousness.  And I have grasped you by the hand.  I created you, and appointed you a covenant people, a light of nations—

And Isaiah 49:6 proclaims in similar fashion:  

וּנְתַתִּ֙יךָ֙ לְא֣וֹר גּוֹיִ֔ם לִֽהְי֥וֹת יְשׁוּעָתִ֖י עַד־קְצֵ֥ה הָאָֽרֶץ

I will make you a light of nations so that My salvation may reach the ends of the earth.

The early leaders of Reform Judaism drew richly on this vein of tradition in seeing the dispersion of Jews around the world as a blessing rather than a curse – for they saw the Jewish mission as that of being exemplars to the world of ethical living. 

A light unto the nations if you will.

And so, in the 1885 Pittsburgh Platform the rabbis of the Reform movement resolved: 

“We recognize, in the modern era of universal culture of heart and intellect, the approaching of the realization of Israel's great Messianic hope for the establishment of the kingdom of truth, justice, and peace among all men. We consider ourselves no longer a nation, but a religious community, and therefore expect neither a return to Palestine, nor a sacrificial worship under the sons of Aaron, nor the restoration of any of the laws concerning the Jewish state.”[1]

The upheavals of the 20th century sufficed to convince Reform Judaism to modify this stance.  In the Principles of Reform Judaism platform adopted in that same city of Pittsburgh a century later in 1999, the Central Conference of American Rabbis movement did still affirm the global mission of Judaism. The 1999 Pittsburgh Platform declares:

We are Israel, a people aspiring to holiness, singled out through our ancient covenant and our unique history among the nations to be witnesses to God’s presence. […] 

In other words, the universalistic notion of Israel being “a light unto the nations,” a mission that our very dispersion could help us to fulfill. 

But this time around, the 1999 Pittsburgh document now also embraced the idea of the importance of the nationalist aspect of Jewish identity:

As it stated:

“We are committed to (Medinat Yisrael), the State of Israel, and rejoice in its accomplishments. We affirm the unique qualities of living in (Eretz Yisrael), the land of Israel, and encourage (aliyah), immigration to Israel.

We are committed to a vision of the State of Israel that promotes full civil, human and religious rights for all its inhabitants and that strives for a lasting peace between Israel and its neighbors.

We are committed to promoting and strengthening Progressive Judaism in Israel, which will enrich the spiritual life of the Jewish state and its people.

We affirm that both Israeli and Diaspora Jewry should remain vibrant and interdependent communities. As we urge Jews who reside outside Israel to learn Hebrew as a living language and to make periodic visits to Israel in order to study and to deepen their relationship to the Land and its people, so do we affirm that Israeli Jews have much to learn from the religious life of Diaspora Jewish communities.”[2]

What a difference a century makes!

Meanwhile, our liturgy --- in all its versions – Orthodox, Conservative, Reconstructionist and Reform – still includes a poetic vision about the centrality of the Land of Israel.  I started this sermon by talking about the importance of the Shema.  But in any siddur or machzor the paragraph immediately prior to the Shacharit recitation of the Shema includes this ancient hope:  

וַהֲבִיאֵנוּ לְשָׁלום מֵאַרְבַּע כַּנְפות הָאָרֶץ. וְתולִיכֵנוּ קומְמִיּוּת לְאַרְצֵנוּ

 “Bring us in peace from the four corners of the earth and lead us with upright pride to our land.”

--------------------------

In recent years the interdependent relationship between the diaspora Jewish community and the State of Israel has come under increasing attack and challenge.  There are some Jews today, even including some rabbis, who no longer identify themselves as Zionists.  Who no longer see the value and necessity of the existence of a Jewish State in our people’s ancestral, indigenous homeland.

And so, I am glad that, at present, both the Reform and Reconstructionist movements still embrace the ideals of a progressive Zionism -- notwithstanding some outlying voices of dissent on the margins.

ARZA, the Association of Reform Zionists of America, defines its mission statement like this: 

“ARZA strengthens and enriches the Jewish identity of Reform Jews in the United States by ensuring that a connection with the Land, People, and State of Israel are fundamental parts of that identity.”

ARZA is the representative voice for American Reform Jews in the elections to the World Zionist Congress, which take place every five years.  And the Reconstructionist Movement, which endorsed and partnered with the ARZA slate for the 2015 elections to the World Zionist Congress, is doing so again for next year’s World Zionist Congress election.  

More information about how we can exercise our right to vote in the 2020 World Zionist Congress election will be forthcoming soon.  But if you want to get a sneak peek into all this just visit www.arza.org.

Meanwhile, in June of this year, the Reconstructionist movement became one of the founding organizational members of the “Progressive Israel Network” --- along with such other Progressive Zionist organizations as Americans for Peace Now, J Street, the Jewish Labor Committee, the New Israel Fund and T’ruah: The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights.

The constituent organizations of the “Progressive Israel Network” have adopted the following list of principles:

• Grounded in our Jewish and democratic values, the Progressive Israel Network calls to action all those who are committed to Israel’s future as the national homeland of the Jewish people and as a democracy that lives in peace and security with its neighbors.

• We are inspired by Israel‘s Declaration of Independence – establishing a state “based on freedom, justice, and peace,” that ensures “complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants, irrespective of religion, race, or sex.”

• We are alarmed by the threats to that vision from the increasingly extreme actions, policies, and ideology of the Israeli far-right with cover provided by its supporters in the Diaspora.

• Our commitment is to peace for Israel and its neighbors – through a two-state solution to the long and destructive conflict with the Palestinians and an end to the occupation and the expansion of settlements.

• Our commitment is to Israel’s security – understanding the many and real security threats Israel faces and that Israel does not bear sole responsibility for its conflict with the Palestinians or other regional powers.

• Our commitment is to democracy and the rule of law – believing that all citizens of Israel must be treated equally, and their civil and human rights protected.

• Our commitment is to religious pluralism – and the belief that all forms of Jewish practice deserve equal protection and recognition in the state of the Jewish people.

• Our values and our commitments make us proudly progressive and proudly pro-Israel and speak for the majority of Jews around the world.

• We call on Jews who share our values to join us as we work to shape opinion, policy and discourse.

• Together, let’s ensure that the Israel we leave to future generations best reflects the values and traditions we have inherited from those who’ve come before.[3]

I’ll be attending the J Street national conference in Washington, DC the end of this month where I’m really looking forward to learning more about how we can act to further these principles.  And I’m looking forward to helping to bring these messages to our representatives and senators during the lobbying day on Capitol Hill which will also be part of the scheduled activities of the J Street conference.

And I’m really excited that our program committee is bringing here to Temple Israel on Sunday, November 3rd, the Israeli writer and activist Hen Mazzig, who will be speaking on the theme:   “On Being a Liberal, Gay, Person of Color, a Progressive and a Zionist."

[NOTE: At this point, I gave a couple of shout-outs by name to specific members of the congregation who will be visiting Israel in the coming weeks and months. — DS]

And I really encourage any and all of you to experience Israel in person if you are at all able to do so.  It will strengthen your Jewish identity and help you to understand how our communities are intertwined.

Here comes the caveat now:

Just as American political life right now is stymied by partisan gridlock, so is Israeli political life. 

And in both of our countries, the forces of extremism threaten fundamental national values.

But as the Union for Reform Judaism’s immediate Past President, Rabbi Eric Yoffie wrote last year in Haaretz, Reform Jews “must be the voice of the sensible center.”[4] 

(and I would add, that goes for Reconstructionist Jews as well, as well as any of us who support a Progressive Zionist outlook)

Whatever you may think of the strength of the Trump administration’s support for Israel or the strength of the Obama administration’s support for Israel before it, and whoever ends up occupying the White House come January 2021 --- it remains critical for the American Jewish community to remain steadfast in our support for the security of the State of Israel – and for the American Jewish community to remain steadfast in our commitment to the creation of an independent Palestinian state existing peacefully alongside Israel.

Our brothers and sisters in Israel need our support and advocacy – and our involvement and our critique.

American foreign policy will always be transactional to a certain extent. 

Ask the Kurds.

Ask the Ukrainians.

And so, as we gather in synagogue today and recall the ancient rites of Jerusalem of old let us remember to keep in mind the Jerusalem of today.

As the psalmist reminds us:

אִֽם־אֶשְׁכָּחֵ֥ךְ יְֽרוּשָׁלִָ֗ם תִּשְׁכַּ֥ח יְמִינִֽי׃ 

If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither; let my tongue stick to my palate if I cease to think of you, if I do not keep Jerusalem in mind even at my happiest hour.[5]

May we, and all Israel, and all humanity, be blessed with peace and justice and reconciliation bimheyrah veyameinu/ speedily in our days.

And may we do our part in making it so.

Gmar chatimah tovah ve tzom-kal / A good final sealing and any easy fast.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

Tishri 5780/ October 2019

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pittsburgh_Platform

[2] https://www.ccarnet.org/rabbinic-voice/platforms/article-statement-principles-reform-judaism/

[3] https://www.progressiveisrael.org/progressive-israel-network-launched/

[4] https://www.haaretz.com/opinion/.premium-what-on-earth-can-rabbis-say-about-israel-this-rosh-hashana-1.6433074

[5] Psalms 137:5-6

HERE TODAY...

Sermon for Kol Nidre Night 5780

October 8, 2019

A few days ago, I was proofreading the “Roll of Remembrance” that we will be distributing at the Yizkor service tomorrow afternoon.  Of course, since my parents are memorialized by plaques here at Temple, I wanted to check to make sure that they were listed in the booklet.  Yup.  Their names were right there.

Not that I needed reminding. 

I think of them every day – as I’m sure is the case for any of you who have lost next of kin.  They may have yahrtzeits once a year, and we might remember them on Yom Kippur at Yizkor, but still, they remain in our hearts each and every day.

But then, as I looked just below my parents’ names on page 13 of the Roll of Remembrance, I was momentarily, instinctively startled. For the next name on the list is “David Steinberg.” 

Now I assure you I’m alive and well at this juncture.  That “David Steinberg,” for whom there is also a plaque here at Temple, was not related to me.  He was the father of Lillian Alpert.  Lillian was a former member of our congregation from before my time who died in Florida a couple of years ago at the age of 101 and is buried up here in Duluth at Tiffereth Israel Cemetery.  Zichrona livracha/May her memory be for a blessing.

Still, seeing my own name in the Yizkor booklet, and also seeing it pop on our yahrtzeit list every year when the anniversary of Lillian Alpert’s father’s death comes up, reminds me of my own mortality. 

In the Torah’s telling, after God had proclaimed the Ten Commandments, when Moses went up the mountain to get the first set of tablets and to learn from God all the rest of the laws of the Torah, and when he remained out of sight and incommunicado for forty days   ----  the Israelites thought he was dead.  In panic, they rebelled and pressured Aaron into fashioning a golden calf for them to worship instead of worshipping this unseen God who had been announced by their now equally unseen prophet. 

Rowdy chaos ensued, and not in a good way.

After forty days, when Moses does come down the mountain, he smashes the first set of tablets in anger and then spends another forty days in a general funk, praying to God for mercy for his people.  Then God invites him to come back up the mountain for a third forty-day period, teaching him the Torah anew and inscribing the Ten Commandments once more on a second set of Tablets, this time tablets hewn by Moses himself.  

Jewish tradition teaches that the date on which Moses came back down from Mt. Sinai with the second set of tablets, that this date was the 10th of Tishri, Yom Kippur. 

As we learn in Parashat Ki Tisa in the Book of Exodus, when Moses returned,

 קָרַן עוֹר פָּנָיו /   “karan or panav” / “the skin of his face was beaming” from having been in such close communion with God.  That unusual Hebrew verb “karan” is related to the word “keren” meaning “horn.”   Rashi comments on this verse that this implies:  שהאור מבהיק ובולט כמין קרן / “sheha’or mavhik uvolet kemin keren” (“that the light shines out and projects like a sort of horn”).   This linguistic similarity between the noun “keren” (“horn”) and the verb “karan” (“beamed”) , which Rashi makes note of, is the root of some old anti-Semitic misunderstandings that claimed that Jews had horns. 

But In a more sympathetic, contemporary context we might describe Moses here as having a sort of “aura.”

However, a question remains for us:  Moses had spoken with God many times before without getting these beams, or horns or rays of light.  So what was different about this latest encounter with God compared to his previous encounters with God? 

What is different is that it is on this occasion that Moses learns of the possibility of teshuvah/repentance/turning.  The very fact that Moses could come back with a replacement set of tablets was a sign that God had decided to give the people a second chance.

And so we find, that when Moses had asked God to show him God’s ways, God’s response was all about teshuva ( Indeed, although the most common translation of “teshuvah” is “repentance,” the word “teshuvah” can also, literally, be translated as “response”). 

We are well familiar with that response, the Shelosh Esrey Midot/ “The Thirteen Divine Attributes.”  These words from Exodus 34, in slightly abbreviated form, are a key part of our Yom Kippur liturgy:

יְ-.ה-וָ-ה יְ-ה-וָ-ה, אֵל רַחוּם וְחַנּוּן--אֶרֶךְ אַפַּיִם, וְרַב-חֶסֶד וֶאֱמֶת.

Adonai, Adonai, God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth

נֹצֵר חֶסֶד לָאֲלָפִים, נֹשֵׂא עָו‍ֹן וָפֶשַׁע וְחַטָּאָה; וְנַקֵּה

keeping mercy unto the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin; and acquitting the penitent.

It is in this new, deeper experience of God, this new perception of God’s aspect of granting pardon and forgiveness, that Moses acquires that aura, or those “horns” of light if you will.

The gift of the second set of tablets teaches Moses, and teaches us, that it is never too late to start over, to refocus, to return to our better selves. 

And just as God gives us the possibility of being forgiven, so also ought we to be forgiving to others who may have messed up in one way or another in their relationships with us. 

For, ultimately, healthy relationship is not about being perfect and never making a mistake.  Rather it’s about having faith and trust in the long run.  Indeed, in the Hebrew language, the verb “l’ha’amin” (להאמין) from the root letters aleph-mem-nun/א.מ.נ. ) (and the related noun “emunah”  אמוניה include the English concepts of faith, belief and trust – all in the same word. 

So, to use another word derived from the same root letters (aleph-mem-nun):  Whenever we say Ameyn (or “Amen” in English) --- we are not just saying that we believe the message of a particular prayer to be factually true.  More importantly --  we are saying that we have faith and trust in the ongoing relationship between ourselves and God.

Faith and trust in God helps us to overcome our fear of mortality.

Faith and trust in others helps us to build relationships and to repair them when they have been disrupted. 

The people thought Moses had died.  He had not.  He would live another forty years, until the proverbial ripe old age of one hundred and twenty.  But 120 years is still not forever.

And, as for us, however long or short any of our own individual lifetimes might be, we know that they too are limited. 

I guess this knowledge is ultimately a good thing.  That’s why the psalmist asks of God  ----  

לִמְנ֣וֹת יָ֭מֵינוּ כֵּ֣ן הוֹדַ֑ע וְ֝נָבִ֗א לְבַ֣ב חָכְמָֽה׃

Teach us, therefore, so to number our days that we may attain a heart of wisdom.[1]

In other words, Judaism is teaching us that we should make every day count.  Every day is a gift.  We should strive to appreciate this gift of life, and to appreciate the gift of the presence of others in our lives.   

The sages taught that we should say 100 blessings every day.  That seems like a pretty daunting challenge!

Well, I know folks who try to do 100 pushups each day, or walk 10,000 steps each day. Such physical regimes take dedication and focus.

So does the spiritual regime of being conscious of our blessings. 

Many of us don’t manage to fulfill such spiritual or physical goals on a consistent basis. 

Heck, many of us don’t even get around to eating five servings of vegetables each day. 

But we get the basic idea.   Life is short.  Don’t waste it.  Don’t walk through it on auto-pilot. 

That message comes up loud and clear during these Yamim Nora’im/ Days of Awe.  In the “Unetaneh Tokef” on both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur we wonder aloud who will live and who will die between now and this time next year. 

And, indeed, the rituals of Yom Kippur have been likened to those surrounding death and mourning.  The kittel that I am wearing and that a few others of you are wearing, resembles the traditional tachrichim or shrouds in which Jewish dead are traditionally enwrapped before burial.   They have no pockets.  We are not taking our material possessions with us when we go.

Even if any of us live to Moshe’s lifespan of 120 years, life is still too short to stand on ceremony. 

Life is too short not to be forgiving of others. 

Life is too short not to be forgiving of ourselves.

I love that famous concluding line from the poem “The Summer Day” by the American poet Mary Oliver who died earlier this year.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

We should be asking ourselves that question every day. 

But, to the extent that we may forget or neglect to do so, Yom Kippur reminds us. 

This day of introspection, Yom Kippur, brings with it an acknowledgement of our mortality.   

You all know the old saying,  “Here today, gone tomorrow.”

But Yom Kippur also turns that saying on its head. 

For with the tekiyah gedolah shofar blast that concludes Yom Kippur we are, as it were, reborn. 

With that imminent rebirth, may we all be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life for health and happiness in this new year of our wild and precious life.

Gmar Chatimah Tovah.

(c) Rabbi David Steinberg 5780/2019

[1] Psalms 90:12

STRANGERS AT THE GATES REDUX

(Sermon for First Morning of Rosh Hashanah 5780/ September 30, 2019)

This is my tenth Rosh Hashanah in Duluth, enough time to start to feel a little settled in.  Some of you, of course, have lived your whole lives here.  I bet you really feel at home – especially those of you whose families have been here for generations.  And for those of you who are newer to our congregation, or who are visiting us from out-of-town --- Beruchim Haba’im  -- welcome – and we hope you will feel at home here too.

However, no matter how heimish an atmosphere we might create here at Temple Israel, we also remember that we are a people whose history is filled with experiences of exile, displacement and wandering.

Torah speaks of Abraham and Sarah’s journey in response to God’s call   --- LEKH LEKHA --- “Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1). 

Somewhat more problematically, those veteran wanderers subsequently force out Hagar and Ishmael to wander in a harsh and forbidding wilderness in this morning’s Torah reading.  Abraham and Sarah may be the ones whom we acknowledge as our spiritual forbears. But, nevertheless, we cannot help but identify with Hagar and Ishmael as well when we confront their plight each year on the first morning of Rosh Hashanah.

And in tomorrow morning’s haftarah, the prophet Jeremiah poignantly evokes the memory of our ancestral mother Rachel crying from beyond the grave as she witnesses the forced exile of the Jewish people a thousand years later:

כֹּ֣ה ׀ אָמַ֣ר יְהוָ֗ה ק֣וֹל בְּרָמָ֤ה נִשְׁמָע֙ נְהִי֙ בְּכִ֣י תַמְרוּרִ֔ים רָחֵ֖ל מְבַכָּ֣ה עַל־בָּנֶ֑יהָ מֵאֲנָ֛ה לְהִנָּחֵ֥ם עַל־בָּנֶ֖יהָ כִּ֥י אֵינֶֽנּוּ׃

Thus said the Eternal:  A cry is heard in Ramah—  Wailing, bitter weeping—  Rachel weeping for her children.  She refuses to be comforted for her children, who are gone.   (Jer. 31:15)

But the Babylonian Exile wasn’t forever.

And the occupation of the Land of Israel by foreign empires wasn’t forever.

Israel now once more --- as was the case in the days of Kings Saul, David and Solomon --- is once again home to the world’s largest Jewish population. 

In this Jewish year 5780, we are no longer a displaced people.

And here in the United States – home to the second largest Jewish community on the planet --- we are blessed to be in a country which, for all its faults, has afforded us those opportunities envisioned back in 1790 by President George Washington in his letter to the Jewish congregation of Newport, Rhode Island when he wrote:

May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants—while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.

May the father of all mercies scatter light, and not darkness, upon our paths, and make us all in our several vocations useful here, and in His own due time and way everlastingly happy.[1]

In this secular year 2019, we are no longer a displaced people.

But the memory of exile, of wandering, of forced migration, remains in our guts.

All of us who are Jewish, whether by birth or by conversion, share this history and this heritage of wandering and homelessness.

And so it is not surprising that Jewish voices have been prominent recently among those concerned with the plight of the displaced millions of today:  Those displaced millions who find themselves buffeted about by the traumas of war and famine and violence which lead them to follow the age-old path of “LEKH LEKHA” --- to go forth from their native lands and from their ancestral homes to a place they do not know. 

But there is much to be concerned about with respect to current U.S. policies around these issues.

Most recently, the Trump administration just last week reduced the annual ceiling for refugee admissions to a record low never before seen under either Democratic or Republican administrations.

At the end of the Obama administration, the cap was at 110,000. The Trump administration cut it to 45,000 for the 2018 fiscal year, and then to 30,000 for the current fiscal year. The new figure just announced for the 2020 fiscal year is just 18,000.[2]

HIAS President and CEO Mark Hetfield issued the following statement last week in response:

“With the stroke of a pen, President Trump plans to once again abdicate American leadership, by playing to fear rather than showing strength. Refugee resettlement saves lives. The U.S. commitment to refugee resettlement has a global effect, setting an example for the world, in a moment when international leadership is sorely needed. Refugee resettlement assures that at least some of those forced to flee their homes have a safe and legal pathway to refuge in the United States. This administration has once again brought our country to a new low, by pledging to resettle fewer refugees than any other administration in history.”

 “HIAS, the American Jewish community, and our local resettlement partners across the country have welcomed immigrants and refugees for well over a century, and we will continue to do so long after President Trump is out of office. We will help resettled refugees rebuild their lives, become contributing members of their communities, and walk along the pathway to citizenship. America is a courageous and generous country with a tradition of welcoming refugees. In spite of the administration's blows to HIAS and other faith-based partners welcoming refugees to the United States, we will survive and help refugees thrive.”

The HIAS press release quoting Hetfield’s statement concludes by noting: 

“Historically, the annual refugee admissions ceiling has averaged 95,000 per year. This year, according to the U.N Refugee Agency (UNHCR), there are nearly 26 million refugees worldwide, the highest number ever recorded. According to UNHCR, more than 1.4 million refugees cannot remain safely where they are and are in need of resettlement.”[3]

 *******************

The Trump administration’s main argument for its slashing of the refugee numbers is that they are doing this because we already have a huge backlog of asylum seekers on our southwestern border. Refugee advocates counterargue that the asylum situation at the southwestern border should not be an excuse for abandoning potential refugees from hot spots around the world. 

As the New York Times reports, “they point out that the backlog in the immigration courts is largely the result of cases where the asylum seekers’ requests need to be evaluated, [whereas,] most refugees who arrive in the United States have already been screened and vetted before they arrive.[4]

What about our Southwestern border?

The situation there reached crisis proportions earlier this year, with children separated from parents, and with many asylum seekers treated as common criminals and kept in harsh conditions where some children died.  The situation seems to have calmed down somewhat recently, in part because the Trump administration is now compelling asylum seekers to remain in Mexico, or El Salvador, Honduras or Guatemala while their claims are adjudicated.  But this has the potential to leave them in danger of being caught up by the violence that they are seeking to escape in the first place. 

At a deeper philosophical level, the distinction between migrants and asylum seekers remains problematic.  Isn’t extreme poverty and the risk of starvation just as oppressive as being targeted for one’s beliefs or opinions?  

Over the last couple of years, many Jewish folks have repurposed the summertime day of mourning, Tisha B’Av, which is when we mark the anniversary of the destruction of the First Temple in 586 B.C.E. and the Second Temple in 70 C.E., and a number of other tragic events, including the expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492.  Tisha B’Av gatherings on behalf of would-be asylum seekers took place all over the United States, including one that Danny Frank and I attended on August 10th along with approximately 150 other Jews and allies at the Sherburne County Jail in Elk River, Minnesota.  A number of would be asylum seekers are imprisoned there after having been apprehended by agents from the Immigration and Customs Enforcement Division (“ICE”) of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.

Here in Duluth, an interfaith local advocacy group has been active in this issue in recent months.  The Twin Ports Interfaith Committee for Migrant Justice includes representatives from various local faith traditions.  Andrea Gelb from our congregation has been particularly active in this group. (More information can be found on their Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Interfaith-Committee-for-Migrant-Justice-112495940104721/ )

The group sponsored a walk and vigil in downtown Duluth back in June in which I and a few other folks from our congregation participated.   Here is what I said at that gathering:

 The Torah in Exodus 12:38 reports that when the children of Israel left Egypt to journey to the Promised Land “a mixed multitude went up with them.”  It’s hard not to see a parallel between the mixed multitude who wanted to join up with the Israelites in the time of the Book of Exodus and the mixed multitude of migrants, refugees and asylum seekers who want to come to the United States in our own day and who seek a path towards citizenship. Once we get past the xenophobic tweets of those who would falsely brand them as rapists, terrorists and drug smugglers, we realize that most of those who yearn to come to our country are motivated by the same forces that brought so many of our own ancestors here: The search for a safer and better life. We in the Jewish community can identify with them because we too are immigrants or the descendants of immigrants.

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

I must admit that, when it comes to talking from the bima about current political issues, I always feel much more ambivalent and unsure of myself than when I just stick to teaching about our Jewish literary heritage of Torah, Talmud, and rabbinic commentary through the ages.  I’m well aware that we as a community are not monolithic in our political leanings.  And I’m well aware that all of you can read newspapers and listen to podcasts and stream the internet just as well as I can --- even if nowadays it can be challenging to come to a balanced analysis of the issues amidst all the propaganda and partisanship. 

But the stakes are high.

“Unetaneh Tokef”, which we chanted earlier this morning, includes some dramatic warnings:

Who shall live and who shall die?

Who by fire and who by water?

Who shall have rest and who can never be still?

Who by famine and who by drought?

These questions are not just rhetorical for many who seek refuge within our borders.

You might recall that we talked about exactly these same questions on Rosh Hashanah morning one year ago.  Here’s how I ended my Rosh Hashanah morning sermon last year.  It bears repeating.  So I’ll just conclude with those same words I spoke last Rosh Hashanah, simply adding a “plus one” to the mention of the new  year:   

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

As we gather today to mark the Jewish New Year, issues surrounding the plight of would-be migrants, refugees and asylum seekers continue to be fought over in a hyper-partisan way.  However, surely there exist legislative and administrative solutions that can address both humanitarian concerns as well as concerns for border security and the rule of law.  

Such issues have been with us from time immemorial.  Today’s Torah reading from the Book of Genesis spoke of the plight of Hagar and Ishmael as they wandered through the wilderness of Beer-Sheva, but of course all four of the remaining books of the Torah are filled with accounts of our ancestor’s wanderings through the wilderness of Sinai in search of a better life.  And, speaking of Genesis --- even its opening saga of Adam and Eve tells of their expulsion from Eden and the trials and tribulations that would follow. 

As we move into this new year 5780, may we be granted the wisdom and the perseverance to advocate for our nation to live up to its highest ideals in offering refuge to those in distress, and the chance for a better life to those who would seek to join our society. 

May we sort out the means for doing so in a spirit of mutual respect – leshem shamayim – for the sake of heaven.

And may all of us ---- friends, neighbors and the strangers at our gates, be inscribed in the Book of Life for a year of health, happiness, prosperity and peace.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg (September 2019/ Tishri 5780)

[1] https://www.tourosynagogue.org/history-learning/gw-letter

[2] https://kvoa.com/news/2019/09/20/pentagon-is-last-holdout-as-stephen-miller-tries-to-slash-number-of-refugees-allowed-in-u-s/

[3] https://www.hias.org/news/press-releases/hias-statement-proposed-fy20-refugee-admissions-18000

[4] https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/26/us/politics/trump-refugees.html

SHELTER OF PEACE

Sermon for Erev Rosh Hashanah 5780

September 29, 2019

Happy New Year!

I’m so glad that everyone is here this evening to celebrate the Jewish New Year. 

However, and I hesitate to tell you this, but if you search carefully through every single word of the Torah, you will not find a single mention of the 1st day of Tishri being Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. 

But please don’t rush off!  I can still assure you we didn’t all get the date mixed up!

Let me try to clarify this confusion:

It is true that the first mention in the Torah of what we now observe as Rosh Hashanah does not characterize it as a new year festival at all. 

Rather, what the Torah says at Leviticus 23:23-24 is this: 

וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְהוָ֖ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר׃

“Adonai spoke to Moses, saying: 

דַּבֵּ֛ר אֶל־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל לֵאמֹ֑ר בַּחֹ֨דֶשׁ הַשְּׁבִיעִ֜י בְּאֶחָ֣ד לַחֹ֗דֶשׁ יִהְיֶ֤ה לָכֶם֙ שַׁבָּת֔וֹן זִכְר֥וֹן תְּרוּעָ֖ה

מִקְרָא־קֹֽדֶשׁ׃

“Speak to the Israelite people thus: In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall observe complete rest, a sacred occasion commemorated with ‘TERU’AH’”  

The word “teru’ah” is translated there in the Jewish Publication Society Tanakh as “loud blasts”.   

And a similar reference in Numbers 29, which is our maftir reading for both mornings of Rosh Hashanah, describes this day as being

מִֽקְרָא־קֹ֙דֶש...י֥וֹם תְּרוּעָ֖ה

“a sacred occasion… a day of TERUAH”

 which the Jewish Publication Society translates there as “a day when the horn is sounded.”

But no mention of these loud blasts --- or of this sounding of the horn --- as being connected with any sort of New Year festival. 

Indeed, you may recall that the very first mitzvah in the Torah that is applicable to the Jewish people as a people is the mitzvah that God proclaims to Moses and Aaron just before that first Passover when we leave Egypt.  And what is that mitzvah?  As it says in Exodus 12:2 – 

הַחֹ֧דֶשׁ הַזֶּ֛ה לָכֶ֖ם רֹ֣אשׁ חֳדָשִׁ֑ים רִאשׁ֥וֹן הוּא֙ לָכֶ֔ם לְחָדְשֵׁ֖י הַשָּׁנָֽה׃

This month shall mark for you the beginning of the months; it shall be the first of the months of the year for you.  

And, of course they are talking there about Nisan – the month at the start of spring when we celebrate Passover.  That’s the month that the Torah consistently identifies as the first month of the year.

Admittedly, elsewhere in the Torah, the beginning of every month, Rosh Chodesh, is designated as a semi-holiday.  But, that still leaves us with the question:  Why then is the “Rosh Chodesh” of this seventh month of the Hebrew calendar – the month later known by its Babylonian name “Tishri” – why is the beginning of this seventh month considered a full-scale festival? 

Later commentary in the Talmud identified this first day of the seventh month as being the anniversary of the creation of the world.  Actually, even that is an oversimplification since there is an argument in the Talmud that the world was created on the 25th of Elul and that this 1st day of Tishri is not the birthday of the world, but rather the birthday of humanity (i.e., the sixth day as described in the Creation story of Genesis chapter 1).

But, long story short, ultimately, it became the normative Jewish tradition to treat this seventh month of the Biblical calendar as the start of the year for purposes of counting the number of years since the creation of the world.

Of course, I am assuming that none of us in this room take any of that chronology literally. It is way more than 5780 years since our world was created, at least in the way we define “years.”  But I am also assuming that I don’t have to convince you that the profound lessons which scripture teaches need not lead us to reject our modern understandings of science.

We praise God as the author of Creation in our standard prayers every day of the year.  And on this day when we celebrate the anniversary of Creation itself --- however many billions of years ago that might have actually been --- how much more so are we inspired to pause to reflect on the awesomeness of it all.

The Talmud says that this is the day on which humanity is judged and on which our fates are determined for the year to come.  And, the traditional teaching goes on, since none of us are wholly good or wholly evil, we have another ten days until Yom Kippur to tip the balance ---   through our efforts to atone for our misdeeds and to make things right between ourselves and our fellow creatures and between ourselves and God.

But all that is later gloss on what is actually written in the Torah.

Going back to the Torah’s portrayal of this day as being “zichron teruah” (“commemorated with loud blasts”) or “Yom teruah” (“a day when the horn is sounded”) – descriptions that do not identify this day with the New Year --- why are we making a big deal out of this day? 

Or to put it in other words, if Tishrei is the seventh month and not the first month, what’s with all the shofar blasts?

If we go back to the Torah, in its own terms, at the time of its own writing,  the horn blasts of the first day of the seventh month --- and the purification rituals of Yom Kippur --- all of these are just preliminary steps leading up to the big day – the full moon of the seventh month --- The holiday known as Chag Hasukkot – The Festival of Booths.  Indeed, later on in the Talmud, Sukkot is simply called “He-Chag” – “The Festival” par excellence.

Now, I know you’re all here tonight because it’s Rosh Hashanah, not because we’re anticipating Sukkot which starts two weeks from tonight.    

But, even as we recite the traditional prayers of Rosh Hashanah tonight and tomorrow and the day after, and even as we recite the traditional penitential prayers of Yom Kippur ten days from now --- and even as we recite our prayers throughout every day of the year --- the image of the sukkah is never far from our consciences.

During the entire month of Elul and throughout the High Holidays, it is traditional to recite Psalm 27. 

And in Psalm 27, verse 5 we have this poignant image:

כִּ֤י יִצְפְּנֵ֨נִי ׀ בְּסֻכֹּה֮ בְּי֪וֹם רָ֫עָ֥ה יַ֭סְתִּרֵנִי בְּסֵ֣תֶר אָהֳל֑וֹ בְּ֝צ֗וּר יְרוֹמְמֵֽנִי׃

“For God’s sukkah will shelter me in days of evil; God’s tent will conceal me, raising me high upon a rock.[1]”   

And every evening of the year, in the Hashkivenu blessing, our prayer that we be safe from any and all dangers that may lurk in the night, we ask: 

וּפְרוֹשׂ עָלֵינוּ סֻכַּת שְׁלוֹמֶךָ

 (“ufros aleynu sukkat shelomekha”)

“Spread over us the sukkah of Your peace.”

What is a sukkah – it’s a flimsy shelter at best.  Susceptible to wind and rain, open to the elements.  A couple of weeks from now many of us will spend some time in the sukkah, even if just for the few moments of reciting a couple of blessings and sampling some wine or grape juice and challah.  The ones among us more ambitious in their piety may eat some meals in a sukkah or even sleep in it.

Tradition invites us to think of it as our temporary home.

But thinking of this precarious structure as a home sensitizes us to the fact that many people are without sturdy homes.  

One such poor individual here in Duluth tried to warm himself on a cold night just a few weeks ago by dwelling in the sukkah belonging to Adas Israel Congregation and starting a fire.  It appears that this homeless man was also suffering from mental illness that clouded his judgment.  Supposedly, when the fire got out of control he tried to put it out by spitting on it; then walked away --- in panic, in confusion, in despair – it’s hard to say.  Admittedly, it’s hard to know definitively what may or may not have been going through his mind.

The incident has left all of us shaken.  We live in a particular period in history when hate crimes have been on the rise, including hate crimes against religious and racial minorities --- we saw this happen in the past year to synagogues in Pittsburgh and Poway, to Mosques in Christchurch, and – not long before that – to an African-American church in Charleston.

When Adas Israel burnt down many of us first thought (dare I say “hoped”) that it was an electrical fire.  Then, when we heard that a suspect had been arrested and charged with arson, we feared the worst.  If it was a hate crime, then that would fit in with the scary picture that we may have in our heads if we spend too much time obsessing on social media and tabloid news.

Yes, there are real security issues for synagogues – and for society in general – to address in this age when there is too much hatred in the air and too many guns on the street.  And I know that your Temple Israel Board of Trustees is focused on addressing those concerns.

But still, that is BY NO MEANS the whole story.  The bigger story, the more important story --- is that love conquers hate and I’ll be damned if I ever would believe that there isn’t more love than hate in this room, in this city, in this state, in this country, and in this world.

As for the case at hand, our hearts go out to our friends and neighbors at Adas Israel Congregation.

And we pray that as we mark this holy day of Rosh Hashanah 5780, and as we live out each day of our lives, that we remember those who are homeless, that we remember those who are in need, and that we open our hearts to God and one another.

That is ultimately what Rosh Hashanah is all about.  That is ultimately what Yom Kippur is all about.  That is ultimately what Sukkot is all about.

That, my friends, is ultimately what life is all about.

Lshanah tovah tikatevu

May all of us be inscribed in the book of life and may it be a shanah tovah umetukah, a new year of goodness and sweetness, for all of us, for all Israel, and for all the world.

© Rabbi David Steinberg (2019/5780)

[1] Translation by Rabbi Ron Aigen

�

LOYALTY OATH

(Dvar Torah given at Temple Israel on Friday evening 8/23/19)

Thoughts on Ekev (5779/2019)

(Deut. 7:12 – 11:25)

Our Torah portion this Shabbat, Parashat Ekev, includes some praise-filled poetry describing the Eretz Yisra’el/ the Land of Israel.  As it says in Deuteronomy 8: 7-10:

כִּי יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, מְבִיאֲךָ אֶל-אֶרֶץ טוֹבָה: 

7 For the Eternal your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with streams and springs and fountains issuing from plain and hill; 8 a land of wheat and barley, of vines, figs, and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey; 9 a land where you may eat food without stint, where you will lack nothing; a land whose rocks are iron and from whose hills you can mine copper. 10 When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Eternal your God for the good land which [God] has given you. (Deut. 8: 7-10)

            And later on in Parashat Ekev, at Deuteronomy 11: 11-12, Torah teaches –

11 And the land you are about to cross into and possess, a land of hills and valleys, soaks up its water from the rains of heaven. 12 It is a land which the Eternal your God looks after; the eyes of the Eternal your God are always upon it, from year's beginning to year's end. 13 If, then, you obey the commandments that I enjoin upon you this day, loving the Eternal your God and serving [God] with all your heart and soul, 14 I will grant the rain for your land in season, the early rain and the late. You shall gather in your new grain and wine and oil — 15 I will also provide grass in the fields for your cattle — and thus you shall eat your fill.

            For the Jewish people, our ties to that land extend back thousands of years, and Eretz Yisra’el has been a focus of our religious and cultural identity from generation to generation  -- ledor vador ---  in all the lands of our dispersion  -- from Egypt to India; from Lithuania to Minnesota.

            We don’t worship the land of Israel. We don’t turn it into an idol.  Rather, we see it --- whether we are God-believing Jews or Atheist Jews or anything in between --- as the place in which the Jewish people made its home in antiquity; the place from which we were exiled first by Babylonians and later by Romans; and the place where we re-entered history as a sovereign nation with the rise of modern Zionism.  

            The political Zionism of Theodor Herzl is certainly, in part, a product of the culture of nineteenth century Europe – a Europe that gave birth to many nationalist movements.  And the same can be said about modern Palestinian nationalism on the part of Arab residents of the region.   Before modern Zionism, Jews believed that the return to the land would only come with the arrival of Messianic Days.  Before modern Palestinian nationalism, Arabs in the historic Land of Israel saw themselves mainly as residents of their local towns, or as members of the worldwide religious Muslim world that was born in the Arabian peninsula. 

            As for Israel – aka -- Palestine, both peoples have compelling narratives connecting us to the same land, which is why it ought to be a no-brainer that compromise is needed.  The content of such compromise is well understand by both the Israeli leadership and the Palestinian Authority leadership:  Two states – Israel and Palestine – living side by side in peace, with a shared capital in Jerusalem, and with borders based on the 1949 armistice lines as adjusted by mutually agreed upon land swaps that would put some Israeli settlements near the green line into Israel and some Israeli land into Palestine.

            Both Israel’s political leaders and the Palestinian Authority’s leadership have missed many opportunities over the years to close this deal.

             And into this morass, lumbers in  --- on one side  -- BDS supporters like Representatives Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib --- and – crashing in on the other side --  that bull in a China shop – President Donald Trump.

            Representatives Omar and Tlaib support the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement.  BDS undermines the possibility of achieving a two-State solution for the Israelis and Palestinians by failing to acknowledge that Jews are an indigenous people to the Land of Israel, and by failing to acknowledge that Zionism is a movement not of European colonialism but rather of national liberation.  But at the same time, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government is equally hard at work undermining the possibility of achieving a two-state solution through its continued expansion of Jewish settlements in the West Bank.

            Omar and Tlaib were planning to visit the region this month, ostensibly on a fact-finding mission in their roles as members of the U.S. House of Representatives.  Their agenda pointedly referred to their destination as simply “Palestine” with no mention of “Israel.”  Chances are, their visit would have created media soundbites critical of the Israeli occupation of the West Bank. 

            The Israeli Knesset two years ago had passed a controversial law barring entry to Israel of supporters of BDS, but Israel’s Ambassador to the United States had assured the U.S. government that Omar and Tlaib would be admitted nonetheless out of respect for the role of the United States Congress. 

            But then Trump intervened via presidential Tweet all but daring Israel to bar Omar and Tlaib or otherwise appear “weak.”

            So, the Israelis changed course and barred Omar and Tlaib.  Then Tlaib petitioned Israel to be allowed to make a personal visit to her grandmother in the West Bank, promising not to turn the visit into a political stunt.  Israel said yes.  But then Tlaib, no doubt succumbing to pressure from her erstwhile allies, herself changed course and said she wouldn’t go visit her grandmother after all if she had to refrain during her family visit from calling for boycotts of Israel.

            That’s where things stood on Tuesday.  A total SNAFU (If you don’t know what that acronym stands for, ask your neighbor.)

--------------------------------------------

            And then, not content to leave bad enough alone, President Trump on Tuesday decided he wanted to say more about the Omar-Tlaib affair.   He declared as follows:

“I think any Jewish people that vote for a Democrat, I think it shows either a total lack of knowledge or great disloyalty.”[1]

             This triggered widespread outrage and a certain degree of confusion –As Avi Mayer, the Assistant Executive Director and Managing Director of Global Communications at the American Jewish Committee (AJC), quipped later that day on Twitter:

“Much as I enjoy the Talmudic debates around that age-old question—"to whom is the President of the United States accusing Jews of being disloyal?"—let us take a moment to reflect on how insane it is that we have to discuss this at all.”[2]

 The following day Trump clarified what he had meant.  In a statement from the White house he said:  

“If you want to vote Democrat, you are being very disloyal to Jewish people and very disloyal to Israel,”[3]

             Many people across the political spectrum have been condemning Trump’s remarks as anti-Semitic because Trump appears to be saying that American Jews are more loyal to the State of Israel than to the United States – or at least more loyal to the State of Israel than to Donald J. Trump.  

            Ironically, if you listen closely, what Trump really was saying was that American Jews – at least the vast majority of American Jews who typically vote Democrat – are not strong enough in their dual loyalties.

            Supporters of Trump – including many Israeli Jews and some American Jews – shake their heads and wonder --- what’s the problem here?  Don’t those unknowledgeable disloyal American Jewish Democrats understand that Trump is the best friend Israel has ever had in terms of his support of the Netanyahu government, his move of the American embassy to Jerusalem and his recognition of Israel’s annexation of the Golan Heights?

            I’ll say this:  As an American Jew – the only undivided loyalty I have is to God as I understand God – or, in more humanistic terms --- the only undivided loyalty I have is to the dictates of my own conscience.  That, at any rate is how I understand teachings like those we find in this week’s parasha where it says ---

אֶת־יְהוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ תִּירָ֖א אֹת֣וֹ תַעֲבֹ֑ד וּב֣וֹ תִדְבָּ֔ק וּבִשְׁמ֖וֹ תִּשָּׁבֵֽעַ׃

You shall revere the Eternal your God: it is only [God] that you shall worship, to God shall you hold fast, and by God’s name shall you swear.  (Deut. 10:20)

            As for worldly, temporal loyalties --- I am loyal to the United States of America – or as we say in the words of the pledge of allegiance to our flag – “to the republic for which it stands”. 

            Indeed, as we learn in the Talmud --- “Dina de malchuta dina” – “the law of the state is the law”. 

            At the same time I am loyal to the principal of “Ahavat Yisrael” – Love of our fellow Jews – and this certainly includes the majority of the world’s Jewish population who live today in the State of Israel.  Though I’m not a citizen of the State of Israel I am deeply concerned for its welfare and security.  And I am certain that both will be strengthened by achieving a just solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the establishment of Two States for Two Peoples. 

            So, I’m not so concerned  -- and I don’t think any of us need to be so concerned --  about accusations of dual loyalty – or as in this week’s bizarre turn of events -- of accusations of not being dual enough in our loyalty.

            No, what really is upsetting, and counter-productive and just overall un=American  -- is President Trump’s continual efforts to promote divisiveness and intolerance in our country within the American Jewish community and among Americans generally.

            Danny Maseng, who is the composer of many wonderful Jewish liturgical settings, including an arrangement of Mah Tovu that our Temple choir sings on the High Holidays, wrote a fiery public post the other day on Facebook.  Here’s what he had to say in response to the President’s remarks this week about American Jews who vote for Democrats:

            And I apologize in advance – it is indeed more polemical than would typically be my own style of expression – and yet, the times call for such words.

            So here’s Danny Maseng’s facebook post. It’s entitled “As a Jew”:

As a Jew

Since you called me out as a Jew, Mr. President, since you thought to call me disloyal or lacking knowledge by not voting for you, I’d like to respond to you personally, even though I have no illusions you will read this.
As a Jew, Mr. President, I am commanded to love the stranger who dwells among us no less than thirty-six times in the Bible you claim to treasure. I am commanded to have one law for the stranger and the citizen. No exceptions.
As a Jew, Mr. President, I am commanded to pay my employees on time, including undocumented workers at casinos, construction sites, or golf courses.
As a Jew, I am commanded to repay bank loans and investors.
As a Jew, I am commanded to never bear false witness.
As a Jew, Mr. President, I am commanded to guard my tongue and speak no evil.
As a Jew, Mr. President, I am commanded to never embarrass my fellow human being in public, lest I be accused of spilling their blood – including Ted Cruz or the late Senator and war hero, John McCain.
As a Jew, Mr. President, I take great offense in my president attacking Denmark, a country that gallantly saved its Jews from the Nazis, while most of Europe fell asleep.
As a Jew, Mr. President, I take umbrage in my Grandfather, the sainted Dr. Rabbi Harry S. Davidowitz, who inhaled poison gas in the trenches of WWI as a US Army chaplain, being called disloyal because he voted Democrat.
As a Jew, born and raised in Israel, I take offense at you calling me disloyal to America AND to Israel because I oppose your inept, ghoulish, uncouth, deceitful, inhumane farce of leadership. How many tours of duty have you performed for Israel during wartime? Or, for that sake, the USA?
As a Jew, Mr. President, I reserve the right to oppose Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib (neither of whom called upon the help of a former KGB operative to help them in their election to office), while simultaneously condemning your divisive, racist rants and policies.
As a Jew who has proud Republican family members who I love and cherish, I am ashamed of what you have done to the Republican party; to conservative ideals – even if I do not share all of those ideals.
As a Jew whose Christian uncle fought heroically at the Battle of the Bulge for our country and for the salvation of Europe – I am ashamed by the mockery you visit upon his sacrifice.
As the son of a Christian pilot, later converted to Judaism, who led American pilots to glorious victory over Nazi Germany, I am outraged by your embrace of neo-Nazi’s and racists in America (that same pilot, who became a squadron commander in the Israeli Air Force, and fought for Israel’s independence).
As a Jew, I am disgraced by your fawning adoration of the worst dictators of our century – you violate Christian and Jewish values by doing so.
As a Jew; as a well-informed Jew who loves and cares deeply for Israel and for America, I condemn you and call you out for the divisive fool, the ogre, the ghoul that you are.
May my soul not enter your council, let me not join your assembly.[4]

(words of Danny Maseng)

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So, this is where we are this Shabbat – the second of the Seven Sabbaths of Comfort and Consolation leading towards Rosh Hashanah. 

We cannot give up the hope for extremism on all sides to be defeated.

We cannot give up the hope for mutual respect and compromise to come to ascendancy in our own country, in Israel/Palestine and around the world.

Parashat Ekev describes God’s relationship to the Land of Israel by saying:

It is a land which the Eternal your God looks after; the eyes of the Eternal your God are always upon it, from year's beginning to year's end.

May that divine providence be over not just our spiritual homeland of Israel -- but also over these United States of America and over all the world – working its way through we the people.

Let us not let divisiveness and hate stand in the way.

Shabbat shalom.

(C) Rabbi David Steinberg

August 2019/ Av 5779

[1] https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/20/us/politics/trump-jewish-voters.html?module=inline

[2] https://twitter.com/AviMayer/status/1163954559888347136

[3] https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/trump-doubles-down-calling-jewish-democrats-disloyal-israel-n1044861

[4] https://www.facebook.com/danny.maseng/posts/10216795961544980