Rosh Hashanah Morning 5777 - Why I am a Jew

Every four years, our nation elects a President. Most years, the choice that we make between candidates is mostly, or even wholly, focused on policy differences. Too conservative, too liberal. Too focused on business. Too focused on social policies. Too hawkish, too dovish. Perhaps, we find a candidate that is “just right.” Mah nishtanah? Why is this election different from all other elections?

In some ways, it is not. The election of the President of the United States is a big deal. The results will have a profound impact on the future of our nation and in many ways on our world. We could find ourselves with a female President for the first time in our nation’s history. Or we could find ourselves with the first President who has never before held public office. Much of the discussion about the upcoming election has focused on character. Many people are more afraid of what will happen if the candidate whom they do not support in this election wins than they are hopeful about what positive changes that the candidate whom they do support might bring.

There is a joke, “I remember when Halloween was the scariest night of the year. Now, it's Election night.” For many, this year it isn’t much of a joke.

There has been more than a little discussion among rabbis about if and how to talk about the many significant issues surrounding this election cycle. No, we cannot publicly support a candidate or party. We cannot make ourselves into a living SuperPAC commercial, providing a one-sided case. Neither can we, advocates for betterment of our world, remain silent and stand idly by. So what are we to do? We must talk about what we believe. I am going to do just that this morning in the context of “What it means to be a Jew and why I am a Jew.”

In 1927, Edmond Fleg, a French Jewish writer, wrote a letter to his future grandson which he entitled, “Why I am a Jew”:

People ask me why I am a Jew. It is to you that I want to answer, little unborn grandson. When will you be old enough to listen to me?... When will you be born? Perhaps in ten years' time, perhaps in fifteen. When will you read what I am writing? In 1950 or thereabouts? In 1960? Will anybody be reading in 1960? What will the world look like then? Will the machine have killed the soul? Will the mind have created for itself a new universe? Will the problems that trouble me today mean anything to you? Will there still be Jews?

Yes, he concludes. Yes, there will be Jews. Israel will live on, because being a Jew is meaningful. He goes on to list reasons which those choosing to become Jewish in our congregation recite at their conversion ceremonies and a version of which is part of the pledge taken by our Board members at their installation:

I am a Jew because the faith of Israel demands no abdication of the mind.

I am a Jew because the faith of Israel requires all the devotion of my heart.

I am a Jew because every place where there is suffering, the Jew weeps.

I am a Jew because in every age when the cry of despair is heard, the Jew hopes.

I am a Jew because the message of Israel is the oldest and the newest.

I am a Jew because Israel’s promise is a universal promise.

I am a Jew because for Israel the world is not finished; we must yet complete it.

I am a Jew because Israel places us and the unity of humankind above nations and above Israel itself.

I am a Jew because above human beings, the image of the divine unity, Israel places the unity which is divine.

This statement still resonates with us nine decades later. But I would add more.

We Jews know that human beings can and too often do act cruelly and inhumanely toward one another. Our tradition tells us that when we find ourselves among those not acting humanely, our job is to be a mensch, to be a human being. As Hillel taught, “Bamakom sh’ein anashim, hishtadeil li-hiyot ish.”

“In a place where there are no human beings, strive to be a person.”

It is said that Jews originated the idea of the Messianic figure, a single individual or in some texts a small group human beings, who would bring about changes that set things according to the intended divine plan. In ancient times, the messiah was a kingly figure, a descendant of King David, or a priestly figure, descended from Zadok, the High Priest during the time of King David. It was hoped that this king and this High Priest would be able to restore the world as God intended it to be. To an extent, Jews are responsible for the idea that the world can be fixed. This concept, with a few modifications in theology along the way, developed into the idea of Tikkun Olam, the concept that we Jews can repair God’s creation through our actions and bring nearer the perfection that God intended.

Yet, while pursuing perfection is part of our DNA, appreciating imperfection is more challenging for us.

Shimon Peres, for whom we are in mourning this week, once said that:

The Jews greatest contribution to history is dissatisfaction. We’re a nation born to be discontented. Whatever exists, we believe can be changed for the better.

And in line with this quote, we see ourselves in the joke about the mother who buys her son two shirts. When he shows up at dinner wearing one, she says, 'What's the matter? You didn't like the other one?” and we see it in the statement by the waiter to the group of picky Jewish diners, “Is anything alright?”

We have difficulty accepting that things cannot be better than they are.

Speaking of food, we are the people who not only may complain about the quality of the food we eat, but even when the food is fantastic, we question how it was prepared, where it was before it was prepared, and how it was acquired in the first place. That is who we are. It’s our nature.

Caring for those who are ill is a big deal for us. We see ourselves right there in Henny Youngman’s one liner, “A Jewish woman had two chickens. One got sick, so the woman made chicken soup out of the other one to help the sick one get well.”

We are interfaith friendly. As the Jewish reggae star Matisyahu noted, “The real reason Jews don't have more Hanukkah music is that, historically, American Jewish singer-songwriters were too busy making Christmas music. 'White Christmas,' 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,' 'Silver Bells' and 'The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting)' were all written by Jews.”

Stereotypes don’t work for us. We don’t accept that we or others should fit into roles. So Jews can write Christmas songs. Ralph Lauren has said, “People ask how can a Jewish kid from the Bronx do preppy clothes? Does it have to do with class and money?” His response, “It has to do with dreams.” 

And we are the people of Hillel’s dictum, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me.” We are Moses Seixas, a Jewish congregational president in Newport, Rhode Island, who wrote a letter to the first President of the United States, George Washington, checking to see if the new nation’s leadership would indeed “give to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance.” And we expect that our government will live up to that ideal to this very day.

We are the people who take the time at the Passover Seder to mourn the deaths of those who tried to kill us, but were killed by God in the attempt, because we are all God’s children.

And every year, during that same meal, we take time to remember that we, ourselves, were slaves, oppressed in Egypt, and that we all were strangers in another’s land. The immigrant’s story didn’t begin to resonate with us when we came into this country in the last century or two, it has been part of our narrative throughout our people’s existence.

We are diverse. We are people like Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, the rabbi of Central Synagogue in New York City, one of America’s largest and most prominent congregations, whose father is an American Jew and whose mother is a Korean Buddhist.

We see ourselves in the stories of the refuseniks and of Natan Sharansky specifically, who, for the book commemorating the life of Daniel Pearl, I am Jewish, shared this story:

I was one of the millions of new human beings in the Bolshevik experiment, which was successful far beyond its maker’s expectations. Section five in my identity papers informed me that I was a Jew, but I hadn’t a clue as to what that meant. I knew nothing of Jewish history, language, or customs, nor had I even heard of their existence…Like all Soviet Jews of my generation, I grew up rootless, unconnected, without identity…

It was through the [Six Day] war that I became aware of the Jewish state, and of the language and culture that it embodied. I was suddenly exposed to the existence of the Jewish people, to the existence of tradition and culture. I was no longer a disconnected individual in an alienating and hostile world. I was a person with identity and roots.

Identity and a sense of belonging give life strength and meaning. A person who has his Jewish identity is not enslaved. He is free even if they throw him in prison, even if they torture him.

We believe that the measure of our lives is not in our wealth or power, morals and ethics matter. Right conduct matters. Justice matters. In the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, who in his response about why he is a Jew stated:

I am a Jew because our ancestors were the first to see that the world is driven by a moral purpose…The Judaic tradition shaped the moral civilization of the West, teaching for the first time that human life is sacred, that the individual may never be sacrificed for the mass, and that rich and poor, great and small, are all equal before God.

I am a Jew because, our nation, though at times it suffered the deepest poverty, never gave up on its commitment to helping the poor, or rescuing Jews from other lands, or fighting for justice for the oppressed, and did so without self-congratulation, because it was a mitzvah, because a Jew could do no less.

We are the Jews like Kerry Strug, Olympic Gymnastics Gold Medalist, who people might not think are Jewish, but are. She said:

I have heard the same question over and over since I received my gold medal in gymnastics on the Olympic podium. “You’re Jewish?” people ask in a surprised tone. Perhaps it is my appearance or the stereotype that Jews and sports don’t mix that makes my Jewish heritage so unexpected. I think about the attributes that helped me reach that podium: perseverance when faced with pain, years of patience and hope in an uncertain future, and a belief and devotion to something greater than myself. It makes it hard for me to believe that I did not look Jewish up there on the podium. In my mind, those are the attributes that have defined Jews throughout history.

And when we go to vote on election day, whether we remember the story from the Talmud, tractate Ta’anit or not, it’s essence will be part of our deliberation:

One day, a man walking down the road came upon Honi the Circle Drawer (known for performing miracles) as he was planting a carob tree.

The man asked, puzzled, “How long will it be before this tree will bear fruit?” [Perhaps, he thought that Honi would perform a miracle].

“70 years,” replied Honi.

The man asked incredulously, “And do you believe that you will be alive in another 70 years?”

Honi responded, “When I came into this world, there were carob trees with fruit ripe for picking. Just as my ancestors planted for me, so I will plant for my descendants!”

We will consider the kind of world that we hope to leave for those who come after us.

I am a Jew because of all of these things and more:

Because we believe in “Mishpat Tsedek,” “Righteous Justice,” and are commanded in the Torah to stress righteousness in our deliberation, “Tsedek, Tsedek Tirdof,” “Righteousness, Righteousness you shall pursue!”

Because we believe that no matter how we look, whom we love, how or if we pray, what language we speak…we were all created, B’tselem Elohim, in the image of the divine and that the righteous of all peoples will merit the best of the afterlife; whatever afterlife there may be.

Because in a world filled with darkness, where one need not look too far or too hard to face inhumanity and despair, not only do we shed a tear, not only do we hope, we bring light.. We can be, in the words of Isaiah, “a light unto the nations” and at our best a source of blessing for humanity, as we find in Genesis 12:3 in the blessing of Abraham, “All peoples of the earth will be blessed through you.” Through us!

Because no few of our holidays have the theme, “They tried to kill us! We survived! Let’s eat!” and, as many of you know, I like good food!

Because reading the story of the Akeidah, the Binding of Isaac, as we did this morning, we can see ourselves

·      As Abraham, following expectations and feeling tested,

·      As Isaac, affected by things out of our control and deciding whether or not to go along, or

·      As Sarah, whose entire side of the narrative, complete with extreme emotions, we must create,

·      But we cannot see ourselves in the place of the young men who, though concerned, watched Abraham and Isaac ascend the mountain, but did nothing.

·      We would not stand idly by.

I am a Jew:

Because though we may at times struggle to see how we can make a difference; we might wonder how our one vote might matter, our tradition tells us in the words of Rabbi Tarfon, “Lo aleikha hamlakhah ligmor, v’lo atah ben chorin l’hitbateil mimenah.” “It is not up to you to complete the work, but neither may you desist from it.”

Because some of us marched alongside Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

And some of us went into Mississippi to help poor black women and men who had been kept away from the polling booths, register to vote, knowing that there was a threat of violence.

And two of us, Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman died in the effort, alongside James Chaney,

Because we Jews understand that if no one speaks up, if no one stands up,

No change will come.

Because in the darkest of places and at the darkest of times, Jews made it through. In the words of Viktor Frankl, a survivor of Theresienstadt and Auschwitz, “Everything can be taken from [us] but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Because we are a people that believes the words of Theodore Hirzl, “Im tirzu, ein zo aggadah,” “If you will it, it is no dream,” because we have seen “HaTikvah al shnot alpayim,” “The two thousand year hope,” become true, our people returned to its ancestral land and a Jewish nation reborn and thrive.

Because confronted time and time again with opportunities to join the majority, to bring an end to difficulty, oppression, and great suffering, we have remained true to our beliefs.

Before Kings and Priests, before soldiers with swords or guns and mobs with torches, who all wanted us to say something else, believe something else, or simply to vanish from the face of the earth, we bravely uttered, “Shema Yisrael, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad!”

Or in the last words of Daniel Pearl, “I am Jewish.”

I cannot tell you how all of this will affect my votes. Not because I do not know, but because I will not advocate for candidates or parties from this pulpit. But I can tell you that it will affect them.

Perhaps, what I have said will affect your votes too, but regardless, I hope that you will be true to yourselves, to vote the principles for which you stand.

May our choices, whatever they may be, bring to us and our nation blessings and not curses. May we choose life, that we and our descendants may live a life of peace and blessing on this land.

Shanah Tovah u’metukah! Have a Happy and Sweet New Year!

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5777- Making Dreams Become a Reality

Many of you know that I have participated in archaeological digs in Israel. I pay particular attention to the archaeological news and, sometimes, people come to fanciful conclusions about what has been uncovered.

For example, I remember seeing a report on Facebook of a discovery of a chariot in the Red Sea. Never mind that the report wasn’t true, there was no such discovery, people were sharing the fake news report and suggesting that it confirmed the Exodus narrative of Pharaoh’s army being swallowed by the sea. The TV show Ancient Aliens, which attempts to prove that aliens visited our planet in ancient times, currently airs on the History Channel and has aired for eleven seasons. Each of its 118 episodes have been watched by well-over one million people. So I was not surprised when I recently, I came upon this report:

After having dug to a depth of 50 meters last year, French scientists found traces of copper wire dating back 1,000 years. Some people have come to the conclusion that the Franks had a telephone network all those centuries ago!
Not to be outdone, British geologists digging to a depth of 100 meters found fiber optic cable! Stories in U. K. newspapers read: “English archaeologists find fiber-optic cable in a 2,000 year-old sediment layer” and some have concluded that their ancestors had an advanced high-tech digital communications network a thousand years before the French supposed telephone network!

Never mind, that the fiber optic cables were new and buried in an earlier layer, we’re not talking about academic archaeology here!
One week later, Israeli Newspapers reported the following:

“After digging a hundred meters down in a Jerusalem marketplace, through three thousand of years of history, scientists found absolutely no wiring at all. They have therefore concluded that, 3,000 years ago, Jews were using wireless technology!”

Connected to Israel, some would believe that if it was reported by someone theoretically not telling a joke as I was. We have ancient aliens in Egypt. Why not ancient wireless communication by the Cohanim in the Temple?

After all, the cell phone is an Israeli invention, a response to the need to call up military reserves at a moment’s notice. Motorola in Israel invented cellular technology. The first cellular call was made only a few months before the 1973 Yom Kippur War, on April 3, 1973. Things in Israel can move from the realm of dreams to reality pretty quickly.

This evening, I would like to talk with you about exactly that, how our dreams can become realities.

This March, I had the opportunity to attend the Central Conference of American Rabbis convention in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv this year along with about 400 of my colleagues from around the world. We were able to interact with many national leaders and get a good feel for the political environment, especially as it relates to Reform Judaism.

Spending time in both Tel Aviv and Jerusalem allows for a different perspective on Israel than most tours would provide. The cities are nothing alike. Jerusalem feels religious and oozes history.  Much of the city, the cobble stone streets, are well worn. Tel Aviv is very secular and feels as modern as it is, not only new, but up to the minute, under construction, and unfinished.

Jerusalem is the city of religious Jews, historians, and tourists, people significantly concerned about the past. Tel Aviv is the city of Shimon Peres. Shimon Peres said that for him “Dreaming (was) simply being pragmatic.” Tel Aviv is a city always dreaming, but practical at the same time, a center of technology and business, ever moving forward. The city lives out Shimon Peres’ directive that, “We should use our imagination more than our memory.” We join with all of the people of Israel in mourning his recent passing. This Rosh Hashanah is the first in seven decades that Shimon Peres has not been considered among the top cadre of leaders of Israel. He will be dearly missed.

While there were a number of memorable experiences on my recent trip, the highlight of my visit to Tel Aviv and of the trip as a whole was the Tel Aviv Half Marathon, which was, not much of a surprise, sponsored by a cell phone company, Samsung.

About three dozen of the rabbis in attendance at our conference participated in the races that day. One ran the full marathon, ten or so of us ran the half marathon, and the rest ran or walked the 5k. We all wore red running shirts that said, “Running for Reform! Supporting Reform Judaism in Israel!” that were provided to us by the Reform movement.

We were running and walking billboards.

I had many people run by me and offer a thumbs up, some saying, “Yalla Reformim!” “Go Reform Jews!” Several walked with me and told me about the congregations in which they grew up in Hartford, New York, Chicago and other places. Some talked about their Reform congregations in Israel.

I began with the first group of runners, crossing the start line about 500^th. I finished the race in 6,800^th place. Around 6,300 people were able to read my shirt when they passed me by! I was by far the best running and walking advertisement participating in the race. But unlike almost 1,000 people, I finished the race.

There were a number of things during the race that made it the highlight of the trip for me. The race reminded me of what Israel is really like, not the tourist Israel, not the idealized religious Israel.

Running with my colleagues for Reform Judaism made the run more than just a race. With a number of recent problematic decisions by rabbinical authorities that make life more difficult for Reform Jews in Israel, showing our public support was not insignificant. Our running was also a form of advocacy.

It was also a joyful experience. I can’t tell you how many times I smiled as children of all races and ethnicities who were watching the race cheered us on—in Hebrew, in English, in Russian and in some places in Arabic.

Then there was the variety of music along the way. I heard everything from American pop tunes to Hebrew hip-hop music and hard rock classics played roadside with guitar and drums. In one case, they were singing an America rock classic with lyrics in Hebrew, but I don’t remember the exact song.

·      There were several large groups of soldiers running in packs who flew by me while reciting their cadences.

·      There were religious Jews running with their tsitsit, their fringes, flapping in the breeze as they ran.

·      Muslims, Arabs and Druze, men and women, some of the latter wearing long sleeves and long pants beneath long skirts and with a hijab, a full head covering, in heat that reached well into the 70s.

·      And there were no few runners in the race pushing people in wheel chairs or people in racing wheel chairs moving themselves.

I had a pretty good idea of who was participating that day, because so many people passed me!

As the morning wore on, I started passing people myself. Runners began cramping up. In one case, I saw someone who just happened to be watching the race go over to a runner whose leg was cramping and who was standing by the side of the road to give them medical advice. Only in Israel. “Stretch it like this,” I heard the spectator tell a runner, in English, demonstrating.

The race was sponsored by Mai Eden, the Water of Eden bottled water company. Instead of giving us paper cups filled with water as you would find at races here. At this race, they were handing out small plastic bottles of water. Runners would, of course, as you would expect, twist the top off, throw it at the trash receptacle or just drop it, and then drink part or all of the bottle, either dropping it or throwing it at a trash can, sometimes actually getting it into the can. I often had to wade through bottle caps and bottles at each one of these stations. I can only imagine that more than a few people twisted ankles. At each location, several people were employed to use big shovels and brooms to sweep up the plastic and put it all in big bags to be recycled.

It was pointed out to me later that Israel has much more access to plastic than to paper. While it was strange to have all of these bottles tossed around, nothing would be wasted. Recycling is a normal thing in Israel now.

When I first began the race, we were tightly packed into a paddock that spanned a four lane road. About a quarter mile after we started, there was a backup on the left side near an overpass. I could see people veering to the left to look at whatever it was. People were nearly banging into each other. I was wondering what was going on. I thought that perhaps someone fell and was hurt.

As I got closer, I heard people clapping and cheering. There was a group of people with a young man who had stood up from his wheel chair and was using crutches to participate in part of the race. Runners were not swerving to avoid this person, they were swerving over to clap and shout encouragement as he took each step with difficulty. It brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t get a chance to see what the signs for the organization said, but I think it was the Israeli Make a Wish Foundation. Someone had a dream to participate in the race.

The Tel Aviv Marathon featured a large number of people participating for causes, pretty much every kind of medical issue was represented as well as numerous organizations promoting hunger relief, education, homeless shelters, support for wounded soldiers and more. It was a good representation of Israeli society and the Jewish world. Seeing all of this together was a deeply moving experience.

If you took a moment to think about it as you ran, and I had plenty of time to think, it was easy to see how many types of advocacy had been successful, many goals had been achieved. There was tolerance of difference- people of different religions, ethnicities, sexual orientations, nationalities, soldiers and civilians, Arabs and Jews, running together. There was the promotion of recycling, even if a bit awkwardly. And there was not only an attempt not to exclude people with disabilities, but a clear attempt to include them in a number of ways. Goals that people had worked to achieve through advocacy in past years and work to achieve in our country were on display. It was inspiring to behold.

As you can tell from my comments, I’m not the fastest runner. I’m pretty sure I was passed by a tortoise or two at some point. But finishing upright and being able to enjoy it is an accomplishment.

If you had asked me two years ago, I would have laughed out loud at the thought of running a race. Im Tirtzu, ein zo agadah! In the words of Theodore Herzl, “If you will it, it is no dream.”

In February of 2015, I started getting into shape, but saying that makes it sound like I was much further along than I was. Trying to improve from out of shape would be more like it. I had no intention of considering participating in a race. In fact, I had never run more than two miles at a time in my life and that was when I was in High School!

I started my “improvement” by walking three miles on the treadmill. After a while, I added a bit of jogging. After a while, forty-five minutes became an hour and an hour became an hour and a half and then two. Then last October, I ran and walked the Des Moines Half Marathon. My first official race of any kind. It took me over three hours. Now, having finished three other Half Marathons including that one in Tel Aviv, I signed myself up for the full 26.2 mile Des Moines Marathon in a couple of weeks. It will take me over six hours.

I am running that marathon, not only as a way to challenge myself, but also to raise awareness of and money for our youth programs so that we may better support the many children in our congregation who want to spend a month of their summer at Goldman Union Camp Institute, to go on the NFTY in Israel six-week long summer program, or to attend NFTY Kallot regionally and nationally. These things are important for Jewish teens no matter where they live, but for Jewish teens living in Des Moines, Iowa, they are a primary connection to the broader Jewish world. We do our best to make sure that anyone who would like to participate in these programs is able to financially do so.

That said, what one realizes in training to run long races when starting out as a relatively, if not significantly, out of shape adult, is that it takes commitment to train, a willingness to change, the right fuel and gear. In the words of the 1980s Nike commercial, “It’s all about the shoes!” But also the various bands and wraps that keep aging knees doing what they’re supposed to be doing and the dietary supplements, the gel packs, salts, and chews, that keep your electrolytes up and keep you going on a run. You might not need many or any of these extra things for a short run, but for the long run, the further you hope to go, the more you require.

I’ve also thought about how similar all of this to other areas of life. It isn’t just someone training for a marathon who benefits from a mindset that they can accomplish their goals. There are good reasons that motivational speakers are hired to speak by companies and organizations. Attitude matters…a lot. The attitude that you bring to your work will go a long way to determining how successful you will be.

And training? Practice makes perfect. Getting in shape matters. If you’re not in shape, practice is going to be limited. If you’re in pain, you may not practice at all. So if you’re out of shape, you’re likely to give up quickly or practice in such a way that adapts to your limitations rather than your goals.

I was there a year and a half ago. I thought I couldn’t. And I was out of shape enough to easily convince myself I was correct. My mindset had to change before anything else. I think I can, I think I can.

Then there’s gear. Some people may be able to run a long way and for a long time without gear. Some of us can’t. Looking for solutions rather than accepting and accommodating problems makes a difference. Get shin splints? Try calf compression sleeves. Run out of energy? Try gels and electrolyte boosts. Worried about your heart rate? Talk with your doctor about it. Wear a monitor.

Every problem is not easy to overcome. Some are not possible to overcome. But some are. The lesson? Don’t give up on what you can improve on or overcome, and you’ll find that you will overcome quite a bit.

One can apply all of these things to organizations as well. Attitude and motivation matter. Training makes a difference. Having the fuel an organization needs, money, workers, and volunteers, keeps an organization going. The right gear, the adaptations that help an organization overcome systemic or situational challenges, can help an organization thrive amid difficulty.

And in thinking about it, we see these things in the Torah as well.

Motivation? How about the directive in the portion that we will read on Yom Kippur morning, “Choose life that you and your people may live!” and all of the blessings that come with living in the right way?

Of course the Jewish tradition has gear, things we use to perform the rituals. We have the tallit, the shofar, the menorah and more.

Training? How about the words of v’ahavtah? To summarize, “Devote yourself to these things with all of your heart and soul and mind. Constantly be mindful of them in whatever you’re doing. Teach them to your children.”

In general, it takes learning and practice to be able to maximize participation in Jewish life, learning prayers and songs, perhaps studying Hebrew, maybe even experimenting with making mazah balls or latkes a few times before getting the right mix of fluffiness and taste. We know that it doesn’t happen without some learning. Jews are life-long learners. For us, studying, training, is literally a commandment.

Am Yisrael, the people of Israel, we are the people running the marathon. We are diverse. Among us are fast and slow runners, the women in traditionally modest dress, the soldiers chanting cadence, the racing wheel-chair competitors flying along the course, the runners bent over in exhaustion, the young man using crutches to take a few momentous steps, the people swerving over to cheer, the American Reform rabbis running for Reform in Israel and the children of every color in the human rainbow celebrating as we passed. We are all different. Some of us too, like at the race, aren’t just onlookers to the Judaism of family members and friends, but are caring and loving supporters, actively helpful. Everyone together makes it all work best.

There I was, running through the streets of the largest Jewish city in the world, the largest Jewish city in history, located in the Promised Land of old, living out Theodore Herzl’s statement in so many ways.

“Im tirtzu, ein zo agadah. If you will it, it is no dream.”

The lesson for which life reminds us time and again is that between those two things,

Wanting it, willing it, on the one hand, and

Achieving your goals and dreams on the other,

Is often a good bit of hard work, training, study and commitment.

In the coming year, may we set our goals high and strive to achieve them.

May we pledge to do what is needed to accomplish what we set out to do and fulfill our pledges.

May we find success and blessing as we journey along all our paths.

Shanah Tova u’Metukah! May we all have a good and sweet New Year!

Kein yehi ratson! May it be God’s will!

Thanks and Not Enough

On Monday at 1 pm Central Time, I will be attending two very different funerals. One I will attend in person. One I will attend in spirit. Both are for wonderful human beings who had a tremendous impact on all who knew them.

In Des Moines, I will officiate at the funeral of Dr. Henry Corn. Recently turning 102 years old, Dr. Corn was a pediatrician who began his practice before there were antibiotics.  He brought health and joy into the lives of thousands of people over decades. No one ever heard him complain. Every time I visited, he said "Thank you" including on his last day right after I offered the Priestly Benediction.

A life of shalom. Completion.
Thanks and thanks and thanks.

At the moment that I help celebrate his long life another much shorter life will be celebrated a few hours drive away in Chicago. I will be there too with Phyllis and Michael Sommer, with their family, with their friends, with my rabbinical colleagues,  with medical providers, with angels. Tears and tears. Smiles for happy times. More tears. More and more.

EIGHT years! Superman Sam was so bright for those eight years! Thank you. Thank you. But not " Dayeinu." Not that. Not enough. Not enough at all.

Two very different lives. Two very different funerals. I will be at both of their funerals with tears for both lives lost. Celebrating life. Mourning that it is simply never enough. Not 102 years, but certainly not eight.

Again I wrestle with God this today. I wrestle with nature and life. This is Judaism. It and we as part of it, do not hide from life. We are Jews. We say "dayeinu" knowing that it never was and never will be enough for us.

Thanks, but not enough. Not enough at all.

May shalom come.

Reform Judaism Is Not Judaism Light

Renewing Reform for the 21^st Century

Reform Judaism Is Not Judaism Light.

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5774

I am often asked what Reform Judaism is about. Usually, the conversation involves someone noting that Reform Jews follow fewer ritual traditions or customs and then they may argue something along the lines of “Orthodox Jews follow traditional practices, customs, and commandments. Conservative Jews are supposed to follow most of the commandments and customs and do so with men and women being held equally accountable, but most Conservative Jews actually don’t do most of them most of the time. Meanwhile Reform Jews don’t even know about the traditions they should be keeping!” We are often seen as “Judaism Light,” commandment free, or else as “ethnic Jews,” part of the Jewish community but not religious. Sometimes, Reform Jews may feel this way about their own Judaism.

Tonight, I would like to speak with you about what the reformers of Judaism intended from the start, what Reform Judaism was during the heyday of what is commonly referred to as “Classical Reform,” and what in our modern context Reform Judaism could become.

During the late 18^th and early 19^th Centuries, many Jews were falling away from Judaism because not only could they not connect philosophically with traditional practices but some of those practices actually turned Jews away. Large numbers of Jews found Jewish services uninspiring or even embarrassing. They were not attending synagogues, were converting away from Judaism, or were losing faith altogether.

Looking at what their Christian neighbors’ churches had gone through, some Jewish community leaders decided that a reformation of Judaism was needed. For these reformers of Judaism, “reform” was a verb, not an adjective. They wanted to restore what they saw as the essential nature of Judaism, just as Protestants during the 19^th Century were trying to do within Christian traditions. These reformers wanted to remove from the Judaism of their day what they saw as accumulated “superstition” and “ceremonialism.”

The man who many recognize as the founding father of Reform Judaism, Israel Jacobson, argued in his dedication address for the newly created synagogue in Seesen, July 7, 1810:

Who would dare to deny that our service is sickly because of many useless things, that in part it has degenerated into a thoughtless recitation of prayers and formulae, that it kills devotion more than encourages it, and that it limits our religious principles to that fund of knowledge which for centuries has remained in our treasure houses without increase and without ennoblement.

To put it simply, Judaism had a great deal to offer, but because of the way it was currently being practiced those great things were being ignored or were largely inaccessible to modern Jews. In the early 1840s, as the concept of reforming Judaism spread in Europe, The Society of Friends of Reform, based in Frankfurt, issued a Declaration of Principles.

In it they argued that most of the day to day practices of Judaism in their age were created by people, not commanded by God, and were based upon what those people, and perhaps wrongly, understood in their day and age. These “enlightened” Jews did not see significance in many of the day to day practices that came down to them through the generations and believed some to be impediments to maintenance or development of faith. Some of these included separate seating in worship, maintaining the full spectrum of Kashrut laws, something that could make Jews uncomfortable in the company of Christians, worship services conducted in Hebrew, a language many Jews did not understand, and conducting services without aesthetic beauty that did not inspire.

Instead, they chose to reform Judaism, to restore it to what they considered to be its pure state. These reformers of Judaism saw themselves not as creating “Judaism light,” but as restoring the truth of Judaism to its adherents, purifying Judaism of what rabbis had added to it over many generations.

The reformers believed that Judaism encouraged secular study and the application of secular knowledge to Jewish belief and practice, an idea directly contrary to the practices in some more traditional Jewish communities in Eastern Europe, like the village in Bessarabia where my Great Grandfather lived, where secular studies were strongly discouraged and those who studied them were ostracized.

The founders of what might be called Modern Orthodox Judaism cited Moses Mendelson’s statement in response to the defenders of inquiry. Mendelson stated that, “We are permitted to ponder over the law, to search into its spirit; never the less, our sophistry cannot free us from the strict obedience we owe the law.” To sum that up simply, “We can believe whatever we would like, but we still need to follow the law.”

The reformers pressed their case that it was not a mere willingness to ponder truth that was necessary but primarily a reform of practice. What we believe and what we practice cannot be significantly in conflict. The father of what came to be known as Classical Reform Judaism, Rabbi David Einhorn, spoke of this in his inaugural sermon at Har Sinai Congregation in Baltimore, MD in 1855:

Judaism must be thoroughly Jewish, based upon divine revelation [by which he meant Torah, not Talmud or other rabbinical sources]. In our day we cannot lay too much stress on this point. The more mere ceremonialism loses in significance and observance, the more it is necessary for us to seize upon the essential character of the Jewish faith, upon that which divested even of the whole ceremonial law, would still stand out in sharp contrast to all other faiths...

David Einhorn observed that in his time, many Jews neither believed that the traditional ritual practices of Judaism were important to maintain, nor maintained them. Furthermore, he saw that if Jews felt that this observance of ritual practice was Judaism itself, Jews would fall away from Judaism. Instead of working to promote the significance of observance even where it was in opposition to modern understanding, Einhorn chose to stress what he believed to be “the essential character” of Judaism in an attempt to bring Jewish belief and practice into harmony. In doing so, he created what came to be known as “Classical Reform.”

While stressing believe in a transcendent God, Einhorn delineated what are essentially the basic beliefs of Reform Judaism in all of its forms today:

[We believe] chiefly in man himself…the body as well as the soul; the belief in the original goodness and purity of all created things, especially of those beings, who fashioned in the image of God, are gifted with reason and, with no native bar to a state of holiness, need no other mediation than their own efforts to obtain divine grace and their eternal salvation; the belief in a humanity of which all members possess one and the same natural and spiritual origin, the same native nobility, the same rights, the same laws, the same claims to blessedness.

With this understanding, Einhorn became one of the leading abolitionists, railing against slavery and oppression of minorities. This understanding permeates the  prayer book, Olat Tamid, the Eternal Sacrifice, authored by Einhorn, which eventually formed the basis for The Union Prayer Book used by American Reform Jewish congregations starting in the 1870s and for well over a century. With this understanding, Reform Jews stood and continue to stand at the forefront of efforts to advance human and civil rights today. This is the understanding that undergirds our pursuit of equal treatment of and respect for people of all faiths, all races, and of every ethnicity and sexual orientation. This is David Einhorn’s legacy.

We as a religious tradition believe—putting Eihorn’s words more simply—that:

·        There is one God who is eternal, invisible, and incorporeal, meaning that God does not take human form or any physical form.

·        We know about God through creation, meaning through making observations about the universe as we know it.

·        People have an eternal soul.

·        People are inherently good and pure. Born without sin, we start life with a clean slate. There is no original sin in Judaism.

·        People are created in the image of God, making all people holy by nature.

·        People are endowed with reason and therefore should put it to use. Blind faith is not inherent to Judaism. Scientific inquiry is essential.

·        People need no mediator or mediation in their interaction with God, they may relate to God directly in their seeking, to use Einhorn’s words, “divine grace and eternal salvation.”

·        People are all created from the same natural and spiritual origin, meaning that no one is inherently superior or inferior by incident of birth.

·        Rights and laws should apply to all people equally. By this Einhorn meant civil laws, not just religious laws.

·        People are all equally blessed in God’s eyes.

This brings me to my final question. What could Reform Judaism be?

Einhorn and the other reformers understood a requirement to act—to practice what we preach. If we believe that people are all created in the image of God, that all are of equal origin as human beings, that all are equally blessed in God’s eyes and that all laws should apply to all people equally, we need, as Einhorn did, to oppose the enslavement of any human beings. Einhorn was an outspoken abolitionist who had to flee Baltimore for his personal safety because his position on the issue was unpopular there. Those continuing David Einhorn’s legacy champion the causes of the oppressed, of minorities, and of the disadvantaged generally.

Another leading reformer, Rabbi Samuel Holdheim, who was among the leading reformers in Germany during the middle of the 19^th Century and was the rabbi of the Berlin congregation stated that:

It is the Messianic task of Israel [meaning “the Jewish people”] to make the pure knowledge of God and the pure law of morality of Judaism the common possession and blessing of all the peoples of the earth. We do not expect of the nations that, by accepting these teachings, they would give up their historic characteristics in order to accept those of our people; and, similarly, we shall not permit the Jewish people to give up its innate holy powers and sentiments so that it might be assimilated amongst the nations.

The Reformers in the United States changed the wording slightly, eventually proclaiming that “the Mission of Israel” was to be “a light unto the nations.” We are to guide the world through the darkness toward the light, toward the truth, as we understand it to be.

Over the years, we have lost the concept of “mission.” In fact, we have even lost the understanding that the advocacy that progressive Jews do for the poor, the stranger, for minorities of all sorts within our communities and for human rights around the world comes not from outside of our religious tradition but is the very basis of it. It is virtually unknown that much of the advancement in relation to those issues over the past two hundred years is the result of advocacy done by Jews precisely because of the moral and ethical imperatives put forth by Rabbi David Einhorn and others from the early 19^th Century until today.

Many among us state that we do these things because it is what good people do. I have to tell you that there are vastly more good people in the world than there are people doing these things. When acting as David Einhorn wished for us to act becomes normative for good people, the Messianic Age will already be upon us.

Let us say that we remember the stranger, the orphan, the poor—because it is what we believe Jews should do and hope that others will join us in doing so. Let us say that we believe in equality of all human beings because that is what Judaism teaches and we hope that others will come to agree with us. We need to be proud Jews. We have a tremendous amount of which to be proud.

In my view, over the past decades, the Classical Reform tradition has been treated unfairly both by adherents and critics alike. By focusing on the use of Hebrew prayers and the reintroduction of traditional modes of worship or opposing them, the foundation of Classical Reform has been obscured. For Classical Reform Jews, the rituals were mere adornments on a body of compassion and activism on behalf of the Jewish people and all peoples. The true focus of Classical Reform Judaism was on what we should be doing when we go about our lives beyond the synagogue’s walls.

Today, we have fallen into the very trap described by Einhorn. We allowed ceremonialism to become our Judaism and then we devalued ceremonialism. That is not Reform Judaism.

This building has words written not just above the ark, reminding us of the Ten Commandments, but it has words written on the outside in foot high letters including “Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself.” They were not put there as a mere decoration. They were there as a declaration of intent. These words were the beating heart of Classical Reform Judaism which encouraged outreach and action.

The reformers of the 19^th Century believed that whatever we read in our prayer books, whatever songs we sang, were to remind us of our sacred obligation, to strengthen us in our mission. Judaism at its heart was to them not about rituals like tefillin or purity practices like keeping Kosher, it was about increasing Shalom in the world, bettering lives for Jews and others. It is more than Edmond Flegg said in his poem, “I am a Jew because in all places where there are tears and suffering, the Jew weeps.” Reform Judaism truly demands, “When there are tears and suffering, the Jew dries the tears and works to end the suffering.” While Rabbi David Saperstein, the Director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism who will be our guest on September 16^th and 17^th, and the many who work with the RAC over the course of the year exemplify this directive within our movement, we cannot abdicate our personal responsibility to act.

This new year, think Reform Jewishly. Think about why you do what you do and what you can do to help make this world a better place. When we sing Oseh Shalom and ask God to bring peace, wholeness, and completion into our lives and more broadly throughout our world, believe that it is each of us, individually, upon whom the task falls. We must do the work whether it is through activism, medicine, teaching, lending a helping hand, feeding the hungry, offering a hug in comfort or a joke to bring forth a smile.

Reform Judaism is not “Judaism light,” it is “Jewish Action Heavy.” Our mission is literally to perfect the world. May our prayers during this High Holiday season inspire us to compassion and action.

Shanah Tovah.

Marriage Equality and the Journey Ahead

This week, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of those advocating marriage equality twice, by ruling that the Defense of Marriage Act or “DOMA” was unconstitutional and by not choosing to overturn the 9^th Circuit Court’s ruling that Prop 8 in California was un-Constitutional.

While I certainly appreciate these decisions, I have found my joy tempered for a number of reasons. First, it appears that the primary reason that DOMA was ruled un-Constitutional was that the court believed that the Federal government overstepped its bounds and took action on something reserved for the states.

 The court held that DOMA "because of its reach and extent, departs from this history and tradition of reliance on state law to define marriage." DOMA’s "demonstrated purpose is to ensure that if any State decides to recognize same-sex marriages, those unions will be treated as second-class marriages for purposes of federal law," the majority ruled. "This raises a most serious question under the Constitution’s Fifth Amendment." Huffpost

In other words, while those marriages performed in Iowa will now be recognized by the Federal government, there is no mandate that other states must allow or recognize same sex marriages.

As for the refusal of the Supreme Court to rule on Proposition 8 and to overturn the 9^th Circuit Court’s ruling, Chief Justice Roberts, writing for the majority, stated that

“We have never before upheld the standing of a private party to defend the constitutionality of a state statute when state officials have chosen not to. We decline to do so for the first time here.” Huffpost

It is important to note that this 5-4 ruling was not the traditional 5-4 split between Conservatives and Progressives, but rather included a mix of both with Roberts and Scalia joining Breyer, Kagan, and Ginsburg in the majority. The fact that the court did not hear the appeal limited the impact of the case to California alone.

The court did not declare all of the Defense of Marriage Act un-Constitutional, nor did it offer a ruling on Prop 8, potentially expanding the decision so that it would prevent other states from enacting similar legislation. There is a long way still to go in the fight for marriage equality.

On Wednesday, the Reform Movement issued a statement that I would like to share with you tonight:

Today’s Supreme Court ruling on marriage equality is a significant victory for the protection of Americans’ civil rights. No longer will lesbian and gay couples remain invisible to the federal government; no longer should there be doubt about the legal legitimacy of these partnerships.

The Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), which we vigorously opposed when it was first considered, has been an offensive and discriminatory measure since its passage in 1996. Since then millions have been denied fundamental rights because of the impact of this ill-advised law. Though that law still stands, today’s ruling in Windsor v. United States promises to lessen some of its most damaging effects. By striking down Article Three of DOMA – a section of the law that the Obama Administration stopped defending several years ago – the Court has enabled legally married same-sex couples to receive the same federal benefits, rights and responsibilities as married heterosexual couples.

Sadly, too many couples across America are still denied the fundamental right to marry. The Court’s ruling in Hollingsworth v. Perry effectively expands that right to tens of millions more Americans. The Court missed an opportunity to take a stronger stand for marriage equality today, yet it is a step toward greater civil rights for millions of Americans.

There is no more central tenet to our faith than the notion that all human beings are created in the image of the Divine, and, as such, entitled to equal treatment and equal opportunity. Many faith traditions, including Reform Judaism, celebrate and sanctify same-sex marriages. Thanks to the Court’s decision, the federal government will now recognize these marriages as well, while still respecting the rights and views of those faith traditions that choose not to sanctify such marriages.

Inspired by our Movement’s longstanding commitment to civil rights, we joined in amicus briefs to the Court in both the Perry and Windsor cases. We look forward to the day when full civil marriage equality is the law throughout the country, reflecting our nation’s historic commitment to the civil rights of every individual. In the meantime, today’s decisions will inspire us to continue to seek justice for all.

While some have said Shecheheyanu, I don’t think we’ve arrived at that day yet. We certainly should not be saying, “Dayeinu.” This isn’t enough.

For the past two days, I have found myself smiling, sometimes with a tear in my eye, as I hear or read the stories of those loving couples who will find their lives improved because of these court decisions. But I have also found myself sickened by some of the commentary that I have heard and seen. I know beyond any doubt that those who wish to discriminate and those who hate will ratchet up their efforts in the months ahead. The leading opponents to same sex marriage are not all right wing Christian Fundamentalists with whom we have rarely worked on social issues. Instead we find the Catholic Church, among our closest of friends in many social efforts, taking the lead.

Cardinal Timothy Dolan, head of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB), referred to Wednesday’s decisions as “a tragic day for marriage and our nation.” Blasting the Supreme Court for dealing “a profound injustice to the American people,” Dolan flatly asserted, “The Court got it wrong. The federal government ought to respect the truth that marriage is the union of one man and one woman, even where states fail to do so. The preservation of liberty and justice requires that all laws, federal and state, respect the truth, including the truth about marriage.”

Pat Archbold at National Catholic Register wrote:

With the universal legal recognition of same-sex marriage a fait accompli, the next fight will on the Church doorstep. The next battle will be to force Churches, most particularly the Catholic Church, to recognize and conduct same-sex marriage. The refusal to do so will result in a series of escalating legal and financial ramifications.

Eventually, because of its refusal to recognize immoral unions as marriage, the state will refuse to recognize Church marriages. As a result, more and more people will bypass Church marriage altogether, further marginalizing faith in this country. This effort is and has always been a war against religion and in particular a war against the Catholic Church. Right now, it is a war we are losing and after today, perhaps it is fair to say that we lost.

Breitbart

Those of us who believe in a strong separation of Church and State and in the Freedom of Religion will stand up and defend the rights of others to not believe what we do and against all who would press their religious beliefs or anti-religious beliefs on religious organizations. In fact, in our minds, that is exactly what the Supreme Court has done in removing these restrictions upon those of us who support Marriage Equality, allowing those who support marriage equality to do so without infringement. The court did not issue any mandate demanding that religious groups that do not support same sex marriage must now do so. 

We may well be headed toward a full separation of the performance of religious based marriages and legal state and federally recognized unions. In fact, civil unions based upon secular laws and applying to property and benefits are most likely ahead. In most Western nations, people wishing to get married go to the state to get a civil union and then, if they choose, have a religious marriage ceremony.

Meanwhile, the Catholic Church is far from alone in its condemnation of the decisions.

The Traditional Values Coalition said that civilization eroded today. And former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee, now a Fox News personality, declared that Jesus wept. Breitbart

I came across several responses to Huckabee saying that “Jesus’ had tears of joy.”

What I find most troubling in dealing with all of this is that while we struggle to find reasonable discourse on many issues and we strive to hold discussions with a sense of consideration and respect for the views of the other and for others as such, in this case all too often responses have been not only disrespectful but disgusting and hateful. Not only has the word “sin” been thrown around indiscriminately over the past couple of days, something which at least could be discussed in a religious context, but advocates for equality such as myself were accused of doing Satan’s work, promoting evil, destroying society, destroying families, destroying America. In the face of that, how can I truly rejoice?

I’m happier than I would have otherwise been, but I’m not ready to declare victory yet. The other side recites the words of John Paul Jones, “I have not yet begun to fight.” We should not yet begin to rejoice.

I find it all too appropriate that this week’s Torah portion is Pinchas. It is one of my least favorites. In it Pinchas and the people are said to have been blessed by God because Pinchas was righteous. What did Pinchas do to earn that blessing? He killed an Israelite and a Midianite woman because he believed their relationship to be an abomination.

We do not believe our texts to be the word of God and we challenge what they teach us. Others do not. We have a long way to go in the struggle for marriage equality and even a longer way to go in the struggle for respect and care for all of those created in the image of God.

We are not yet nearly as Moses standing upon Mount Nebo overlooking the Promised Land. Instead, we are more like the Israelites leaving Egypt before ever reaching the Reed Sea: granted freedom but pursued by those who would take it away and with a long difficult journey ahead.