Sermon delivered at Beth Israel Congregation, Shabbat Nachamu, August 20, 2016

 

I have spoken from the bima recently about the power of words in comments on our Presidential election. After I posted one of my sermons on the issue on Facebook, one of my Facebook friends replied with a quotation by Sigmund Freud which read in part: “Words call forth effects and are the universal means of influencing human beings. Therefore let us not underestimate the use of words”.

 

Today, I want to speak about another use of words which has been terribly difficult for many of us. These words came in a recent statement of principles issued by the Black Lives Matter movement, whose cause I have spoken about previously from the bima, which included these words: “The US justifies and advances the global war on terror via its alliance with Israel and is complicit in the genocide taking place against the Palestinian people,” It goes on to say: “Israel is an apartheid state with over 50 laws on the books that sanction discrimination against the Palestinian people.”

 

The Black Lives Matter movement, whether  or not one agrees with all of the rhetoric, is raising very significant issues, concerning racial discrimination in law enforcement, in the justice system and resulting mass incarceration of people of color. These issues should be very important to us as Americans and as Jews given our tradition’s absolute commitment to justice as the first priority for building a sacred community.

But, these words hurt and they must be clearly condemned.

I completely and utterly reject the idea that Israel is engaged in genocide. This is a horrible mischaracterization of the situation. I also believe Israel’s policies can not be compared to apartheid in South Africa and reject the comparison.

We can’t ignore these words. They matter. Even if the positions are ancillary to the basic goals of the movement, the leaders felt they were important enough to be mentioned and that is of great concern. These words are hurtful and untrue and, sadly, they do affect how I and many of us will interact with the efforts of this group.

But, our community’s zeal to condemn statements of this kind leads me to a great concern which arises whenever words like these are used about Israel from whatever source.

Too often, we concentrate too much on the words expressed in virulently anti-Israel statements so much so that we allow them to divert our attention from the reality. Granted it is not genocide or apartheid, but Israel’s policies toward the Palestinian people are gravely inconsistent with Jewish values and tradition. They must be radically changed and we as a Jewish community, dedicated as we are to justice, must continue to focus attention on these unjust policies.

No, Israel is not completely to blame. Violent terror and rejectionism is a big piece of the story. But, if we care about justice, if we care about ethics, if we care about doing what is right, we can not let the exaggerated words we hear from others divert us from our responsibility to raise our voices against policies in Israel which are unethical.

We are justified in being uncomfortable with how other groups talk about Israel and Palestine, and that includes the Black Lives Matter movement and the Boycott Divestment and Sanction groups. But, it is our critical responsibility to offer a serious, sincere and meaningful alternative to their language which will show that we are deeply concerned and sincerely committed to applying whatever pressure we can on the Israel government to move in a different direction.

I can’t ignore the language of the Black Lives Matter movement regarding Israel. But, in the end, the language doesn’t change the fact that we and every American need to stand up and speak out and take action against the biases which cause so much pain in the black community. We are one nation and this is our fight too.

And, similarly, as Jews the fight for justice for Palestinians in Israel is our fight too.

I believe that we need to dedicate ourselves to being unmistakably clear that, even as we appropriately care so deeply about Israel’s security and survival and reject extreme language, we too know that the Palestinian people are suffering. We must raise our voices clearly, using different, more accurate but serious and clear language. We must use words which convey our deep frustration and, to use an extreme word of my own, but one which I feel is totally appropriate, our heartbreak, at what we see.

 

 

                 

Shabbat Balak, July 23, 2016

When we consider the blessing offered by Bilaam, we immediately think of the verse: Mah Tovu Ohalecha Ya’akov, Mishkenotecha Yisrael: How beautiful are your tents O Jacob, your dwelling places O Israel!

However, that is not the only thing that he said. In fact, Bilaam offers 3 blessings to the people, each quite lengthy. Balak keeps schlepping him from one place to the other in the hopes that he will eventually curse the people, something that he never does.

Some of the lines uttered by Bilaam are clear and could not be understood in any way but as a blessing. But, there is at least one line in his “blessings” which pose a difficulty for me. I hear in this line a negative rather than a positive.

Bilaam says: Kee mayrosh tzurim erenu umigivaot ashurenu: As I see them from the mountain tops, gaze on them from the heights. Hen am livadad yishkon uvagoyim lo yitchashav: There is a people that dwells apart, not reckoned among the nations.

It is difficult to ascertain exactly what Bilaam intended by this statement but reading it as a blessing would lead one to, as the Etz Hayim hummash says, conclude that he meant that they were a people who lived in a secure place with a fate not subject to the whim of other nations.

The midrashic commentary in Etz Hayim delves into this verse a bit further and considers the relationship of the Jewish people with others in the world. The commentary points out that some Jews see our survival as a people stemming from our ability to set ourselves apart from those who were around us. In fact, there are those who believe that rejection of our equality in society is sometimes a positive development, keeping us separate from others. If we were to become too accepted, we would lose our uniqueness and our reason for existence.

The commentary then goes on to refer to Zionism and points out that many anti-Zionists based their opposition to a Jewish state on the idea that we would become too much like the other nations if we had to engage in politics on a world stage. The lack of a state enabled Jews to remain separate.

And yet, many Zionists believe exactly the opposite. Many believe the creation of a state in fact allows Jews to do what Bilaam suggested: to be a nation apart. Surrounding ourselves with other Jews and not having to be concerned about others is for some the goal of the state. I have on occasion shared with you my experience at Bet Hatefutsot, the Diaspora Museum in Tel Aviv in 1979 when I heard in a recording explaining one of the exhibits: “Here was a people who were redeemed from Egypt only wanting to be left alone”. I cringed at that because it wasn’t my experience growing up and not what I envision Judaism to be. I don’t see separation from the rest of the world as a blessing but rather as an inappropriate goal for our people. I still believe that without question.

The point is that what sounds like a blessing to one person: “a people remaining separate” can sound like a curse to another based upon his or her experience.

Words have power and they are not always heard the way we intend them to be heard.

In everyday conversation, we must try as diligently as possible to anticipate how others around us will hear our words and we must take care to be sensitive to how we speak. This isn’t a matter of being “politically correct”. It is a matter of proper, respectful behavior.

We don’t always get it right. God only knows how many times I have said things that were not heard the way I intended them because I was either insensitive to or ignorant of the way that people reacted to those words. We have to try but we can’t expect to be perfect.

But, in situations where the audience is larger than the average, when people are hanging on every word, and where words are considered far in advance, it is absolutely incumbent on an individual to do everything he or she can to choose words carefully. If the wrong words are used, words which are insensitive or divisive, it is legitimate to wonder whether that meaning was intentional.

What you heard on Thursday night is wrong. We absolutely can talk about political issues from the pulpit. We just can’t endorse a particular candidate.

We can’t endorse candidates but we can certainly talk about words that are said and there Were plenty of words said in Cleveland that beg to be commented on. I could speak about the exclusively Christian rhetoric of the invocation and how I, as a Jew felt excluded. I could speak about the excessive name calling which, while it has always been part of our presidential campaigns, seems to have gone far over the top.

Instead, I want to speak about one simple three word phrase which caused me to gasp when I heard it, and I thought I had heard it all over the past few months. It’s just one example to be sure but as it was emphasized over and over again on Thursday evening, I believe it is critical to point out the impact of these words.

In introducing his vice presidential choice and several times on Thursday evening, Donald Trump boasted that his campaign would be about law and order. Law and Order.

On the surface, these words are positive. We all want to live in a country where people observe the laws of the land and where there is order rather than chaos. And, we understand where this is coming from. The horrendous assaults on law enforcement officers in this country are unspeakably horrible and totally and completely unjustifiable. Those who protect our safety deserve our support, our protection and our concern. Yes, law and order sounds like a blessing.

But, when viewed in historical context, the words “law and order” carry ominous weight for many.

In her outstanding and groundbreaking book The New Jim Crow the author Michelle Alexander writes: ““The rhetoric of ‘law and order’ was first mobilized in the late 1950s as Southern governors and law enforcement officials attempted to generate and mobilize white opposition to the Civil Rights Movement. In the years following Brown v. Board of Education, civil rights activists used direct-action tactics in an effort to force reluctant Southern States to desegregate public facilities. Southern governors and law enforcement officials often characterized these tactics as criminal and argued that the rise of the Civil Rights Movement was indicative of a breakdown of law and order. Support of civil rights legislation was derided by Southern conservatives as merely ‘rewarding lawbreakers.’ For more than a decade – from the mid 1950s until the late 1960s – conservatives systematically and strategically linked opposition to civil rights legislation to calls for law and order, arguing that Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophy of civil disobedience was a leading cause of crime.”

The author explains that these three words: law and order, are easily heard as an expression in opposition to those who have gathered, largely peacefully, to express justified concern about the shooting of African American men by police in so many instances in recent years and other examples of racism.

I hear these words not only as a call opposing such protests but as a dismissal of the legitimate concerns of so many.

These words have been used as code words for racism and division in our nation. Perhaps Mr. Trump did not intend to imply this just as perhaps he didn’t intend to imply anti-Semitism with his use of the phrase “America First” or the tweet featuring a 6 pointed star and lots of money. But, words have power and unlike in everyday conversation, there is no excuse for a presidential candidate to use words and images which are heard or seen by many in a negative light. And, when combined with other statements such as a call for a ban on Muslims entering the country or the statements about Mexican-Americans and immigrants, the choice of words seems more intentional.

Words have power. This past Thursday night, at a gathering at Eastern Michigan University, hundreds of community members stood shoulder to shoulder and face to face with law enforcement officials to reaffirm the commitment in this community to work together to address racial issues involved in law enforcement. It was a healthy, frank and productive gathering with many critical issues and many different points of view expressed. I was honored to speak at this program and to experience an open and honest discussion on the serious issues of race and law enforcement.

The words we use matter and are heard differently by different people.

We, as Americans, must make every effort to use words which inspire us to come together, not be inspired to live as a “people apart”, hiding behind walls as our divisions increase in our community and our world.

We must use words which unite not divide.

 

Chapter 7 of Bemidbar is the longest chapter in the entire Torah.
It goes on and on and on.
And, to add to that, it is so repetitive. Twelve of the Paragraphs present in detail the gifts brought by each of the tribal chieftains for the dedication of the tabernacle. These lengthy paragraphs are exactly the same except for the name of the chieftain and the tribe.
The chapter is so long and very quickly, we realize that we’ve heard these words already.
It is a challenge to listen to.
You wouldn’t think Torah commentators would have anything to say of interest about this repetitive portion. But, in fact, they do.
Let me share with you two commentaries.
First, from a commentary called otzar hamachshavah, a treasury of thoughts on the Torah from the Hasidic masters, we read the following thought: why is it that the Torah repeats these sacrificial gifts over and over again in all their detail even though they are all the same? After all, says the commentary, and rightly so, we believe that the Torah contains not even a superfluous, unnecessary letter. So, why would the Torah waste 11 paragraphs in such detail when it could have recorded the first gift and then just said the other chieftains brought the same gifts?
Dayenu, it would have been enough.
The commentary’s interesting answer to that question is that each of the chieftains was not looking at what was brought before them in order to know what to bring. Rather, each one brought what their heart told them to bring. Each was a personal gift that just looked the same but really was different because of the spiritual motivation each one felt. And that each was called: “the sacrifice of Nachshon” or “the sacrifice of Nitanel” supports that point. Each one really was a personal gift even though it was the same as the one before and that is why the Torah repeats each one.
Then we have another commentary from the 18th century rabbi Pinchas of Koretz. He notes that the entire list of sacrifices begins with the word Vayihee. “And it came to pass”. As in: “And it came to pass that the first one to bring a sacrifice was Nachshon ben Aminadav”
Rabbi Pinchas notes that there is an ancient rabbinic tradition that the word vayihee at the beginning of a section of the Tanach always means “trouble is coming” as in Vayihee biyamay Ahasveraus. And it came to pass in the days of Ahasveraus, the beginning of the story of the near annihilation of the Jews of Shushan at the hands of Haman.
So, asks Rabbi Pinchas, what is the trouble that is anticipated in this chapter of gifts to the sanctuary?
He says, the trouble is that Nachshon, the first one to make an offering didn’t really feel he was ready to be the first. “Mee Anee u’mah anee”, he says according to legend: “Who am I and what am I that I merit this responsibility”?
But Moses says: “God has chosen you”. We can picture Moses saying: “Your humility will help you. But, you must do your job.”
I had an idea to teach some Torah lishmah, some “Torah for its own sake this morning. There is a verse that is very moving to me regarding the importance and significance of studying Torah but that will have to wait for another year. We can’t just teach Torah for its own sake this morning. We have to learn something to help us through this horribly difficult time.
And so, on this first Shabbat after the terrible attack in Orlando, let us learn from each of these commentaries.
First, and permit me to take a positive commentary and use it to describe a horribly negative situation, we can use the commentary about the repetitive nature of this section to remind ourselves of a critical fact about the violent attacks we have seen all too often in our country.
They may seem the same. But they are not. Even if they appear similar, they are not.
Any attempt to lump all such attacks together is misleading, futile and wrong.
We need to accept the fact that there is no simple answer to stopping attacks that are really different, one from the next. First of all, the targets differ.
This time it was the LGBT community which was the target, a community which, despite significant and positive legal advances in recent years still suffers from bigotry and threats of violence. I only hope and pray that members of the LGBT community know that this and many synagogues and other house of worship are places not just of inclusion but places of safety and sanctuary for you. We recognize the threats and stand by you and with you.
But, on this very weekend last year, it was an African American church in Charleston, South Carolina which was targeted.
No group, it seems, is safe.
And the profiles of the perpetrators differ as well.
Yes, we need to confront the danger that supporters of ISIS or other extremist groups present. That danger is real and significant. But as these attacks are carried out by perpetrators with different horrific agendas, we can’t assume that responding to this particular threat will end violence.
There is, however, one as the Talmud would call it: “tzad hashaveh”, one aspect which links each of these tragic actions and that is, of course, the relatively easy availability of horrendous weapons of mass slaughter.
And, that brings us to the second commentary.
Our hearts are broken. Our pain is so great. We may wonder whether we are truly capable of doing what needs to be done to address this horrible plague in our society.
But, this is our job. We can not let fear get in the way. We can not let our pain paralyze us. We need to pray. We need to speak out. Most importantly, we need to act. And congress must act. And act now to address the access to weapons of mass slaughter in this nation.
This is not the time to be overly humble and to question whether we can make the changes that are necessary. We must.
Yet, some humility is necessary. We must not resort to generalizations and stereotypes, using bellicose words of hatred or suspicion. We need calm, reasoned, united, determined actions to seek sensible ways to prevent such tragedies and protect our citizens.
The problem is huge. The stakes are the highest they could be. Our responsibility is enormous.
Each and every one of us, in our own way, must do our part by raising our voices
And, even as we mourn the victims and pledge ourselves to action, we must do something else as well. We must embrace life, with concern but not fear. We need to show, as we discussed last Saturday evening at our tikkun leil Shavuot, gratitude for the blessings we have in this beautiful world. We need to teach our children who hear of these attacks that life is still a blessing and the world can be a place of beauty and joy.
In the words of a song which we will sing in a few moments, the world may be a narrow bridge but the essential part of life is that we not be afraid.
Let us do our work.
For the chapter before us is too long and we must stop allowing it to repeat itself on and on.
Please rise for a memorial prayer for the victims of the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando and for all who victims of violence.

SERMON FOR PARASHAT VAYETZE NOVEMBER 21, 2015

This morning, I want to talk with you about angels. Then, we’ll turn to the real world.

Whether you regard angels in a literary or metaphoric or mythic sense, their role as messengers of God is worthy of serious consideration. And, angels play a major role in the life of Jacob, beginning in this parasha with the story of our patriarch’s dream of a ladder reaching up to the heavens with angels ascending and descending.

A prominent traditional rabbinic interpretation of Jacob’s dream is that he is witnessing the “changing of the guard”. The angels who have protected him within the land of Canaan are returning to the heavens while those who will protect him outside the land are taking their positions. The dream is seen as an assurance by God that Jacob will be protected in his travels outside of Canaan as he was inside the land.

In the dream, the angels are ascending and descending and this brings up a question: Was there any overlap? Was there ever any moment when both sets of angels were directly accompanying Jacob? I would assume that there would have to be such an overlap even for only a short moment as otherwise, there would have been the possibility that Jacob would have been left defenseless even only for a moment.

This question of “overlapping angels” may be reflected in the song Shalom Aleichem. This song is based on the tradition that angels accompany us in our homes on erev Shabbat and therefore we must greet them properly with words of greeting. But, it is odd that in the second verse we welcome the angles with boachem lishalom, “come in peace” and then, in the third verse, we say tzeitchem lishalom, “go in peace”. Why would we give the angels the traditional greeting of farewell when they have just arrived?

There are several answers to this question but the one that I prefer is that we are in fact saying goodbye to different angels: the angels who have been with us through the week who now are returning to the heavens after the long 6 days of work. We say, “go in peace”, have a good rest and come back after Shabbat. Note though that we do not say goodbye to them until we have welcomed the Shabbat angels. There is overlap. We are never left without angels. Messengers of God are always around us.

This idea of two different sets of angels is found in another rabbinic context as well. There is a lovely legend that when God sought to create the human being, two sets of angels argued about the plan. One group said that God should create the human being because we would be capable of doing acts of kindness and justice. The other group said God should not create human beings because of the evil that would arise from our actions. God, chooses to creat the human being in hopes that the good will outweigh the bad.

There is another piece to the argument of the angels against creating the human being. The role of the angel was to do on earth what God can not do: to be messengers of God on earth. Therefore, the angels did not want the human being to be created because they sensed their role would be diminished. And, they were correct. It has been diminished Whatever you believe about angles, the fact is that we are God’s angels. Human beings are the ones who are to do God’s work. We are God’s messengers on earth. But, as was pointed out in one of the recent lectures in our Hartman Institute series on Dilemmas of Faith, the difference between human beings and angels is that human beings can say “no”. We can refuse to do God’s work while angels had no choice.

The debate between the angels about whether God should or should not create human beings is a reflection of the tension between what we call the yetzer hatov, the good inclination, and the yetzer hara , the bad inclination, a struggle that our tradition believes goes on inside each of us. This struggle accompanies us always and the strong person, according to Pirke Avot, is the one who conquers his or her evil inclination.

But, according to at least one rabbinic text, the yetzer hara is not necessarily the inclination to do evil. It is rather seen as the self-centered inclination, the self-protecting inclination. We read in Bereshit Rabbah that even the yetzer hare has its place for it not for the yetzer hara, no one would build a home or choose a profession which would provide them their needs. Yetzer hatov becomes the altruistic inclination and yetzer hara becomes the self-protecting inclination and both are needed in a life. There needs to be overlap of altruism and concern for self.

And now let us turn away from angels and turn to the real world.

I am sympathetic to the persepctive that led Governor Snyder and many other governors, politicians and private citizens to decide that this is not the time to welcome Syrian refugees into our country. I understand their fears and I do not say that lightly. Their concern that our security structures are not proficient enough to weed out any individuals or groups capable of performing the kind of horrific terrorist attacks that occurred in Paris or Beirut or Turkey or so many other places in our world is worth consideration. It didn’t take the attacks in Paris to prove that adherents of this horribly perverse way of thinking and acting are a threat to our communities and our nation as well. And, it is natural and reasonable for a Governor to see his or her role as protecting our self-interest, to listen to his or her yetzer hara rather than the yetzer hatov.

But, while it may be reasonable to be concerned, the proposal to close the doors on Syrian refugees is shortsighted, inappropriate and wrong. It is based on misleading claims and exaggerated fears concerning the refugee population. And, as this proposal has gained momentum, the rhetoric has turned increasingly racist and cruel and that is shameful.

We should care about protecting ourselves but we need to listen to our yetzer hatov, to our good and altruistic inclination as well. We need to be God’s angels on earth, doing the work of saving and enhancing lives. We need to find a way, even given our fears, to respect and continue our commitment to those in need. We cannot look into the eyes of these people who have been so horribly victimized and just close our doors. It is wrong for a country which speaks of being a source of good in the world. And, here, I want to commend our local Jewish Family Service and HIAS, the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society which has rescued so many people, Jews and non-Jews in the past for committing to continuing to support and welcome, after proper security checks, Syrian refugees to this country.

Our angels must overlap. We can honor the inclination to self-protection while not dismissing the inclination that inspires us to care for the huddled masses who have been through such horrors. We need to listen to our better angels and continue to find a way, despite our fears, to reach out our hand to those whom we can help.

We all have concerns about the state of the world but those fears can not undermine our basic sense of humanity.

We can not close our hearts. We can not close our doors.

 

As the controversy continues to rage about Prime Minister Netanyahu’s planned speech before Congress, I feel compelled to say it clearly. Despite Mr. Netanyahu’s claim that he speaks for the entire Jewish people; he does not speak for me. I say this for three reasons. First, I say it because I do not agree with many of the Prime Minister’s positions. I’m not going to argue that Iran’s nuclear capability is not a threat to Israel. It potentially is a threat and he may be correct that sanctions and more are needed to insure Israel’s survival. But, putting the Iran issue into the context of the entire set of positions which Prime Minister Netanyahu holds and the actions of his government concerning the settlements, the lack of movement on a peace process (for which blame also lies with the Palestinian leadership), the treatment of asylum seekers and other issues he does not speak for me. He also does not speak for me when he arranges, without clear communication with the President, to speak to Congress two weeks before the Israeli election. This was an insult to our political system and the office of the Presidency. As I see it, it was an attempt by Speaker Boehner to recast support for Israel as a partisan issue, pitting Republicans against Democrats and trying to pander to American Jews. In addition, the timing is inappropriate. I do not want the Israeli prime minister to speak before Congress so close to the election to attempt to impress Israeli votes and to sway congress to his position. And, certainly not in the case where the invitation came from one political party. Finally, I do not believe that any one individual, not even the Prime Minister of Israel,  can speak for the Jewish people. When I stand up to speak before a non-Jewish audience, I always say that I’m not speaking for all Jews, nor for all conservative Jews, nor for all the members of my congregation. I am sharing one particular perspective: my perspective. That is what Judaism is as a religious faith. No one speaks for all Jews. And, what is true in our religious life ought to be true in our political life as well. We should all proudly identify with the state of Israel and passionately work for its survival and security. We should be profoundly thankful that we have a state. But, the prime minister of Israel is not the Chief Rabbi for all Jews. He is an elected official who will either be reelected or voted out of office next month. He is to be respected for his position and the difficulty of his task. But, he doesn’t speak for every Jew. And, in this case, he certainly does not speak for me.

I delivered the following sermon this morning at Beth Israel. Please note, as I explained to the Congregation, that I wrote this sermon on Thursday evening before the horrendous attack at the kosher supermarket in Paris. On two occasions this morning, we expressed solidarity, concern and hope for the Jews of Paris and all who are in danger. This sermon was a reaction to the attack in Paris on Thursday.

SERMON FOR PARASHAT SHMOT 2015  AM I CHARLIE?

The terrorist attack in Paris this week was a horrendous, uncivilized, evil act. And, the fact that it was done in the name of a religious faith makes it even more of a hillul hashem, a desecration of God’s name.

But, there is another side to this story that I want to explore this morning. For the past few days I have been thinking seriously about the issue of satirizing religious leaders or religions. I certainly am not in favor of censorship nor do I think religions or religious leaders are above reproach or should be given a free pass to escape the critical spotlight shown upon other institutions. But, it still bothers me deeply to see such caricatures of religious faiths that the French newspaper Charlie Hedbo published.

To feel that one’s religious faith has been demeaned or insulted is an experience that most of us who consider ourselves religious have experienced in one way or another during the course of our lives. It is a heartbreaking experience to have one’s faith tradition or one’s religious leaders or teachers mocked. Of course, it is horrendous and completely unjustifiable to respond to such mockery with murder or acts of violence but it is painful nonetheless.

What bothers me most deeply about the caricatures is that while religious leaders and thinkers who preach violence or hatred deserve to be publicly condemned and I have no hesitation doing that or seeing it done, there are many religious leaders and thinkers who reject violence and hatred and are trying desperately to bring our world closer to redemption. They tend not to get as much attention and I despise and refute the idea that religion only brings pain to the world. I feel that caricatures or any type of “art” which paint with a broad brush hurt all of us.

So, amidst the legitimate concern about censorship and free speech and the horrible example of hatred and violence demonstrated by the extremist Muslims who perpetrated these acts, let us take a moment to look at some positive religious examples around us. Let me refer to two local organizations and three individuals who epitomize a different, constructive approach to what religion can and should be.

I have spoken on several occasions at programs sponsored by the Niagara Foundation, a group dedicated to bringing understanding between the Abrahamic faiths. Those programs have highlighted Jewish, Christian and Moslem leaders who have reached out in concern and love and clearly, publicly and forcefully condemned all acts of violence. Gathered in a room with people who truly seek mutual respect for religious faiths is refreshing indeed.

While I obviously don’t endorse some of the philosophical positions of the Catholic Church, I continue to be so deeply impressed by the kindness, the sincerity, sensitivity and the humility of Pope Francis. He represents in so many ways what religion can be for the world and stands as a shining example for all of us.

And, when I think of our own faith, I think of leaders and teachers such as Abraham Joshua Heschel whose 42^nd yahrzeit was observed yesterday. He was a man who personified what religious faith can be: teaching us to be humble, to never accept violence or hatred as “the way it should be” but to be truly surprised and dismayed at every act of violence. He stood for civil rights, for an end to war, even for environmental justice before it was popular to do so and begged us to make our lives a work of art.

And, a few weeks ago, we learned of the death of one of the most honored teachers of our movement, Rabbi Harold Schulweis. Rabbi Schulweis built a vibrant and visionary synagogue in Los Angeles. He founded organizations to bring recognition to non-Jews who performed acts of courage and heroism to save Jews during the Shoah and joined with Leonard Fein, Zichrono livracha, to form MAZON: a Jewish response to Hunger.

But to me Rabbi Schulweis will always be known first and foremost as the author of one my favorite books: For Those Who Can’t Believe. This book is a gem, helping to show how Jewish faith can be fulfilling even for those who think critically and don’t buy pat answers. It is a marvelous book and I can’t recommend it strongly enough.

One of the points Rabbi Schulweis makes in this book is that many people make assumptions about what religions teach and assume therefore they can’t believe in the faith in which they were raised. Regarding a young man who is cynical about Judaism, Schulweis writes; “Paradoxically, the only religious notions he considers authentic are those he cannot believe; the only ones he can believe are those he thinks to be inauthentic.” This is similar to that old line they used to say, and maybe still do, about secular Israelis who would object to non-Orthodox synagogues because “the shul I don’t go to is Orthodox”. Offering alternatives which challenge assumptions and preconceived notions about faith often fail because it is easier to reject religion based on what you think religions teach than to engage in serious spiritual consideration of what a faith has to offer.

So, while those who demonize religious faiths have unfortunately some very legitimate grounds to criticize and extremist terror is certainly the most blatant, painting with a broad brush is insulting.There are just too many who still do good work in the name of religions and I believe in the power of religious faith to bring this world to a better place. I haven’t given up yet despite what I read in the papers.

I am pleased and honored to once again welcome Reverend George Lambrides, co-director of the Interfaith Round Table of Washtenaw County to Beth Israel today. The Round Table seeks to educate, to bring people together and to demonstrate that learning about each other’s faith will help us to understand each other and to encourage us to work together to improve our community and our world.

Tomorrow, at Zion Lutheran Church, the Round Table will present this year’s Faces of Faith program in which members of different religious community from Washtenaw County will introduce their faith to others in a fascinating and inspiring format of small group discussions. The program takes place from 2-4 Sunday afternoon and I encourage all of you to attend.

There are many who are using the expression: “Je Suis Charlie” to make a stand in favor of free expression of ideas. In terms of standing against censorship, courageously standing against those who seek to silence others and standing in solidarity with those who have been victimized by terror, I also say: Je Suis Charlie.

But, that doesn’t mean I admire the way the newspaper has characterized Jews, Christians and Moslems. I don’t. I find these cartoons to be offensive to all.

So, in addition to standing for freedom of expression, those of us who believe religious faith can be a constructive aspect of our world and deserves respect must be willing to say- and I’ll say it in English because my French is not good enough- “I am a religious individual and I work for good in the world”. In that way we will be following in the tradition of our teachers whom we remember today and honoring those throughout the world who continue to truly do God’s work.

They are the ones who deserve to be on the front pages.

Four years ago, on Kol Nidre night, I delivered a sermon on the subject of Israel as Jewish State. You can find the sermon at http://www.truah.org/images/Dobrusin_KN_5771.pdf

During that sermon, I stressed, as I had done many times before, my belief in the importance of Israel being a “Jewish state”.

Israel was founded as the state of the Jewish people, dedicated to the concepts of peace, and justice for all of its citizens. Here is a section of that declaration translated into English:

THE STATE OF ISRAEL will be open to the immigration of Jews and for the Ingathering of the Exiles from all countries of their dispersion; will promote the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; will be based on the precepts of liberty, justice and peace as invisaged by the prophets of Israel; will uphold the full social and political equality of all its citizens, without distinction of race, creed or sex; will guarantee full freedom of conscience, worship, education and culture; will safeguard the sanctity and inviolability of the shrines and Holy Places of all religions; and will dedicate itself to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations.

These were noble and challenging goals and throughout its history, Israel has attempted to reflect the character of a “Jewish State” while espousing equality for all of its citizens and those under its authority. To say the least, it has not always succeeded but this has been the stated vision and the goal of the state.

The term “Jewish State” means different things to different people. As I stated in my sermon, I believe that  our values as Jews are all important in this term “Jewish State”. Our values would dictate that Israel must continue to reflect the principles of justice, equality and respect for all of its citizens. If Israel weakens its stand on democracy and equality, it ceases to be a Jewish State and becomes only “a state for Jews”. If Israel gives more rights, more protection and more respect to Jews than it does to other citizens, it is not acting according to the values of our tradition.

This week, the Knesset will vote on a controversial bill which will establish a law identifying Israel as “the nation state of the Jewish people”. This, in the opinion of many, is a dangerous law which could lead to further tension and further discrimination of non-Jews in Israel.

While one of the amendments proposed to the law would explicitly insure equal rights for every citizen, one has to ask why this law needs to be created when the status quo has existed in basic Israeli law for so many years. And, one must ask  why it has to be created especially now at a time of increased tension between Israeli Jews and Israeli Arab citizens.

There are many experts in Israeli Law and Jewish leaders both in Israel and in the Diaspora who point out that Israel’s Jewish character and its democracy have been established through laws dealing with specific situations.  This law, even if it is amended and “watered down” from some of its original text will only serve to heighten the potential difference in legal standing between Jews and non-Jews within the state. It clearly and unequivocally designates the non Jew as “the other” not worthy of equal consideration under the law.

I completely agree with those who oppose this law. It is the wrong law for the wrong time.

That Israel should continue to be a “Jewish State” is absolutely appropriate in my opinion and I consider that designation critical towards our continued relationship with the state. But, any law which seeks to emphasize that designation in order to draw distinctions between citizens is wrong. It is dangerous for Israel and runs counter to our belief as Jews in the equality of all human beings. To pass such a law would be a tragedy.

This is the sermon I delivered two weeks ago when I returned from vacation and had the chance to address the Congregation about the situation in Israel and Gaza.

It is good to see everyone and to be back on the bima again. I have to be honest though, this was not the best vacation I ever had. As you can imagine, the past three and a half weeks were not a good time to find relaxation and rejuvenation.
But, I have very little to complain about and I know it. As difficult as it is to watch events from a distance and worry so deeply about them, it is no comparison to those who live it daily and our thoughts and prayers are with them.
While I have not been on the bima, I wrote quite a bit over my vacation, not only first drafts of high holy day sermons but also comments on Facebook and on my blog. Let me share with you my Facebook posting from two weeks ago, a posting which many of you read:

“A nation absolutely has the right and responsibility to defend itself against rocket fire. A nation’s people should not have to live in fear. But, we must never take for granted or merely accept the necessity of bloodshed, especially of innocent children and we must never fall victim to the celebration of military might. May Israel find the proper course as it fulfills its responsibility to protect its people from harm and continue to seek every opportunity possible for an end to this madness. With hopes for calm, quiet and real peace for all.”

Let me now add to that statement. In Hamas, Israel is fighting against an enemy which seeks its destruction and which employs unspeakably horrible tactics. Those tactics endanger its own civilians and that is an understatement. The rocket attacks continue and the tunnels leading into Israel are proof of the intention for more terrorist attacks. No matter how much I detest war and am sickened by what I see, I know that Israel has to defend itself and has to destroy this capability of its sworn enemy to the best of its ability.
But, I can’t stand on this bima this morning without placing this entire situation in context and without offering a fervent hope for an end to this horrible, horrible madness and for compassion for the innocent.

There is a beautiful Midrash which teaches that when God created the world, God was afraid that if the world was created only with strict justice, it would not survive. Nor would it survive if it were only created with compassion, with mercy. Thus, God brought both of the Divine attributes: din and rachamim, justice and compassion, to the creation of the world.

So, let us think about compassion. Regardless of our opinions on Operation Protective Edge, the moment we stop feeling compassion for those innocent people in Gaza is the day we no longer are reacting as Jews. How compassion should be brought into the political and military equation is a theoretical, philosophical question for each of us to decide. It is the Israeli military and government’s responsibility to answer that question pragmatically. I know that this is being discussed and I pray being put into action. But, for all of us, compassion is critical. We can’t ever lose it. We should never apologize for it and we can’t ever diminish its importance.
Over the past few days, I have become very concerned about the sudden proliferation of statements against against the ideas of liberal or progressive Jews. There are so many out there who are mocking what they see as naivete or even celebrating the crumbling of liberal ideals as they vilify those who still are upholding hopes for peace or reconciliation or who have dared to question whether the degree of Israel’s military actions are justified.
I’m not talking here about those with clearly anti-Israel or anti-Semitic viewpoints. I reject those entirely and I have no patience for them. I’m talking about those who love and support Israel but whose compassion is outweighing other emotions they feel. Those who openly say that they see their own children’s faces in the eyes of the children of Gaza as well as in the eyes of the children of S’derot, who still yearn for a better day and say military strength is not the ultimate answer.
I don’t think only “progressive” people should feel this way. All of us should feel this pain. All of us know this is not what Zionists had in mind when creating the Jewish State. Is military action necessary at this point? One could certainly argue that it is. But desirable? Of course not, all of us left or right want calm. All of us want peace and all of us must feel compassion.
But, for those who choose to say it more clearly, even as they express their love for Israel, rather than just put those ideals aside until calmer times, I say kol hakavod.
One of those people is Dr. Alex Sinclair, who is the director of programs in Israel Education and adjunct assistant professor of Jewish Education at The Jewish Theological Seminary. Unlike most of us in this room, he has had to run with his family to a secure room when the sirens are heard. In a piece he wrote for Ha’aretz which I urge you all to read, Dr. Sinclair tries to confront the popular idea that a liberal is a conservative who hasn’t been mugged yet. He has been mugged. He has felt the danger. And yet, he has not given up his progressive ideas and will not give up hoping for a better future.

Let me quote a piece of his writing that I share with his permission as we were in contact this week. He writes about what he thinks as he looks to the future:

“My own way of responding to the situation has been to focus on the following points:
1. Most Palestinians want to live in peace. They are held hostage by Hamas just as much as we are. This doesn’t mean to say that most Palestinians like Israel (they don’t), or accept Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state (they don’t), but it’s important to remember this core truth as a starting point.
2. As painful as this situation is for us, it is hundreds of times more painful for the Palestinians of Gaza, who do not have air raid sirens to warn them, reinforced rooms to run to, or iron domes to shelter them. Regardless of whether we agree or disagree with the rightness, wisdom, or specific tactics of Operation Protective Edge, we must retain our ability to empathize with the suffering of the ordinary Palestinians in Gaza.

3. The aftermath of this Operation will require a lot of rehabilitative work for the relationship between us and the Palestinians – even more than the vast amount that was necessary before. Many Palestinians simply hate us. In some cases, this is because of deep-rooted religious extremist fanaticism. But in many cases, it’s simply because, in their eyes, we’ve killed their friends, relatives, and innocent children; we have made their lives miserable; we prevent them from traveling beyond the confines of Gaza; and so on. Again, my point here is not to argue whether or not these Israeli policies are right or wrong, are justifiable, defendable, or not. It is to remind ourselves that in order to live in peace with our neighbors, we are going to need to talk with them, and in talking with them we are going to need to remember just how much pain and anger and understandable hatred they will have to overcome (as will we).
I don’t underestimate just how difficult and perhaps Sisyphean this task is. My experience of Arab-Jewish dialogue has taught me that the barriers are great, the distances between the sides are vast, and the narratives are often mutually exclusive. But I have also seen that with time, investment, and careful facilitation, breakthroughs can be made. To jaw-jaw is always better than to war-war, said Churchill.
Being a liberal doesn’t mean that you have to condemn Operation Protective Edge; but it does mean that despite and along with the painful situation we have all found ourselves dragged into, we need to be clear and constant about how to break the cycle of violence in the future; to remember that most Palestinians want peace, to empathize with and acknowledge the terrible pain and suffering that Palestinians, especially those in Gaza, have endured, and to demand of our leadership and theirs that as soon as a ceasefire takes place, we all embark on a long-overdue process of dialogue, mutual understanding, empathy, acknowledgement and recognition, leading towards a two-state solution. Otherwise, all these deaths, on both sides, will truly be in vain.”

I could have quoted many Israelis this morning, and others have said vastly different things. But, I chose to share these words with you because they helped me to face a question that came to me as I sat down to write this week. I asked myself: “Specifically,What should a Rabbi say about the situation?” And besides expressing support for Israel and concern for the innocent people in Gaza, I decided that there was one other thing I had to say. What I had to say is encapsulated in my favorite political quotation of all time and it is reflected in Dr. Sinclair’s words.

Then Governor Bill Clinton began his acceptance speech at the Democratic convention in 1992 by talking about his hometown of Hope, Arkansas and the values he learned there. He talked about the difficult times that he faced growing up and that the country was facing and ended his speech by saying what I say to you today, in the spirit of Dr. Sinclair’s words. Despite all that is happening and all of our conflicts:

“I still believe in a place called hope”.

It is the obligation of a Rabbi, and of every Jew, to continue to hold out a vision of a better world, a vision of hope.
But hope demands actions and a different path when the time is right.
Please God, May that time come soon. And when it does may we all show as much passion, as much support, as much solidarity for Israel with her quest for peace as we have shown for the military efforts of the past three weeks.
Until that day comes, may all the children, of all ages, go to sleep at night and awaken in the morning having dreamed of a better world. And may that world come to be.

              THE MUSIC THAT ELEVATES US

This sermon was delivered on Shabbat Terumah February 1, 2014

Today’s Torah portion is called Terumah. The terumah was a contribution, given from the heart, in this case for the building of the Mishkan, the tabernacle in the desert. The word terumah comes from the Hebrew word lihareem, to lift up. But what is the connection between this contribution and the word meaning “to lift up”?

Rashi notes simply that terumah means hafrasha, separation, separating these items from the rest of one’s property. In fact, there are those who say that the donor physically lifted up the object being contributed to show that it has been designated for a sacred cause.

As the Etz Hayim points out, however, there is a spiritual element to this elevation as well. The commentary quotes the Hasidic teacher Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev as saying that a person, is elevated, is lifted up, by giving such a gift. So, the “terumah”, the lifting up, could refer to both the object and the donor.

But, it is also true that such elevation can be contagious. When a person sees another person contributing something and being inspired by that act, they themselves would t be lifted up, encouraged and inspired to do the same. So, the process of elevation can take many different forms.

Earlier this morning, we sang the Hallel service, psalms of Praise to God. We lifted up our voices in song. No matter how many times we sing the Hallel, these inspiring words lift us to different places in our spiritual lives and hopefully inspire us to act in our lives on those values which our tradition teaches. That inspiration can be contagious as all who hear the voices raised in song are inspired themselves.

There are many sources of inspiration in our world and music is one of the most enduring. Listening to favorite music, whether a classical symphony, jazz, rock, whatever we find moving can bring us to a different higher place, can elevate us in unique and lasting ways.

But, as inspiring as melodies may be, it is often the words to a piece of music that serve as the greatest inspiration. Words which are meaningful when read or spoken impact us so much more deeply when they are set to music. The music combined with the words can become a driving force which grabs us and will not let go.

I have often spoken from the bima of my personal musical hero, the late Harry Chapin, whose words and melodies move me no matter how many times I hear them. And, for the past few days, I have found myself listening and singing along to a song he wrote some 40 years ago in tribute to one of his mentors, a man whose life and words and music inspired so many for so many years but whom some apparently felt was just an “old folkie” whose time had passed.

Here are some of Harry Chapin’s words of tribute and respect to this man’s enduring impact on our lives. What was true 40 years ago is still true today:

       He’s the man with the banjo and the 12-string guitar.

And he’s singing us the songs that tell us who we are.

When you look in his eyes, you know he’s really in there.

 

Yeah, he knows where we’re going and where we been

And how the fog is gettin’ thicker where the future should begin.

When you look at his life, you know he’s really been there.

Old Folkie

They say he’s always bleedin’

But whenever somebody’s needing him,

He’s the one who cares.

It’s always the “Old Folkie”

Whenever something’s burning,

Or a lesson needs some learning,

Or a tide that needs some turning,

To a better world somewhere,

Yeah, the “Old Folkie’s” there.

He’s the man who put the meaning in the music book.

Yeah, the world may be tired but Pete’s still going strong.

 

 

He sang this, of course, in honor of Pete Seeger and now, after Pete’s death this past Monday at age 94, the words are so much more meaningful:

Pete Seeger was one of a kind. He was a musician who loved music for what it was, who was a musical scholar in so many ways, but who will always be best known for using his music to lift us up- to inspire, to encourage, to push us to dream and to act on our dreams. Taking up whatever cause needed him most, he sang for civil rights, for an end to the war in Vietnam, for the environment, for labor unions, for whoever needed him.

Pete Seeger taught us about the power of music and power of words. His words and melodies could pound like a hammer against injustice, ring like a bell to proclaim truth and were the songs which inspired so many of those musicians whom I grew up hearing. My older brother tried to teach me to appreciate the words of Peter Paul and Mary, Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs and so many others.  At first, I was too young to understand then but as I grew up and listened again and then found my own favorites, many of the same genre, I realized how sacred these words are. And, I realize now especially how the man I saw playing his banjo at an informal concert in a park in Boston when I was probably 10 or 11 was such a mentor to the musical poets I love.

I know some contemporary musicians take on social causes with their music but somehow it just doesn’t seem the same to me and part of that I know is my perspective. But, I fear that the tradition that Pete Seeger was such a big part of, maybe the biggest part of: using music to lift us up to a higher sense of social consciousness and responsibility seems to have disappeared to a great extent.

But, as long as there are Itunes or youtube or whatever they called those flat black vinyl things, his music will live on after him and will inspire so many. And hopefully, it is not only the old folkies among us but the younger people too who will find meaning in these words set to music.

Meanwhile, all of us who have been influenced by Pete Seeger will continue to listen to his words and will be inspired to write our own songs, our own poems and yes, even our own sermons with the goal of uplifting those who hear our words and bringing about the change in our world that he sang out for so loudly and clearly.

There is a Hassidic commentary on Parashat Terumah that it is not only the giver who was elevated by the contribution to the tabernacle, but God also was uplifted when people gave, as our bat mitzvah said in her d’var Torah, with the proper spirit.

When we sing the Hallel and sing it with all of our heart, God is uplifted as well. And, when the words and music of the dreamers and activists like Pete Seeger, inspire us to do small or big things to make this world a better place, God is surely uplifted.

But, this morning, words are not enough. I want us all to feel that inspiration again and by doing so, elevate each other and elevate the Kadosh Baruch Hu. And, maybe, those in the congregation this morning who are too young to know what I’ve been talking about for the last 10 minutes will catch a glimpse of what it can mean when music moves us to a higher place and greater awareness of our responsibilities as human beings. Then, maybe later today your parents and grandparents can tell you a bit more about why this has been so important to us over the years.

So, please join with me in the song that many of us have been singing all week. You don’t need the words in front of you. You all know these words written by Pete Seeger along with Lee Hays.

If I had a Hammer…

May the memory of Pete Seeger, continue to be an inspiration and may we never stop singing.  

As a final thought on the anniversary observed this past weekend, I am posting my sermon from this past Shabbat.

SERMON FOR PARASHAT VAYESHEV, NOVEMBER 23, 2013

KEEPING THE MATTER IN MIND AS WE LOOK AHEAD

                                                Rabbi Robert Dobrusin

There are some verses in the Torah which, though remarkably simple, jump off of the page. They are transition moments in the midst of long, elaborately told stories.

        One such phrase occurs in this week’s Torah portion. Upon seeing that the brothers are angry with Joseph concerning his dreams of power, Jacob, the Torah says: shamar et hadavar, took note of the matter.

        These are simple words but a reminder of how the childhood experiences of his sons would evolve into an entirely new story, in a new place, with new realities and new challenges.

        Immediately after we read those words, we read of Jacob sending Joseph on a mission to spy on his brothers. It would seem strange that Jacob would send Joseph on such a mission right after we read that “he kept the matter of his sons’ anger in mind”. Jacob shamar et hadavar, he remembered the reality of the recent past, and now he sends Joseph into danger. Why would he do that right at that time?

There is a beautiful Midrash which understands the key verse differently. It is based on another understanding of the word “davar”, which we translated as “the matter”. The word can also mean: prophecy.

Understanding it this way, the Midrash says that Jacob understood Joseph’s dream as a prophecy. Jacob is described as taking a notebook and writing down all of the details because he was sure it would come true. He knew that Joseph was destined for glory.

        Accordingly, sending Joseph out to meet his brothers at this point can be seen as Jacob trying to jump start Joseph’s journey out to the world. According to this line of thinking, Jacob  never believes the brothers when they claim Joseph has been killed but believes with all of his heart that not only will he see him alive again but that when matters take their course, the davar, the prophecy for the future will come to pass.

        In this case, the davar that he has kept in mind is not about an action of the past, the brothers’ anger at Joseph, but about the future and his hopes and dreams for the world of his children.

        Keeping the matter in mind.

        Does it mean holding on to a memory or expressing hope for the future?

        Sometimes it means both.

        I tried to imagine standing on this bima on this Shabbat and not talking about the past. But, despite the fact that we have been inundated with memorials and TV specials and millions of written words this past week, and despite the fact that I have expressed myself on my internet blog and from this bima on this subject, I can not allow the 50^th anniversary of the assassination of President Kennedy to pass without some thoughts this Shabbat morning.

        I am 58 years old and I know that it is those of my generation who are shomrim et hadavar, who have kept the matter of the assassination of President Kennedy in mind. We have not let it rest and the images of that weekend are burned into our minds so many years later. Perhaps it is because we saw it impact our parents and grandparents so deeply even if we were, as I was, too young to understand its implications. Perhaps it is because the entire industry of searching for a conspiracy beyond the “lone nut” explanation feeds into general cynicism and skepticism about our government and our leaders so many of us have experienced. Perhaps it is because we are envious of a generation which produced a president who was so charismatic, so attractive, so full of hope, and one who received at least some occasional cooperation from political adversaries and was able to see part of his vision through. Whatever it is, we have not let the matter rest.

        And it makes no difference that we have learned that all was far from perfect in Camelot and that looked at without the rose colored glasses of emotion, his administration was far from perfect. John Kennedy still remains in my generation’s mind the figure who brings to mind the greatest of our leaders as Phil Ochs sang in a song I was reminded of this week:

Yes, the glory that was Lincoln’s never died when he was slain
It’s been carried over time and time again
And to the list of honor you may add another name
That was the President and that was the man.

        But, we have reached a transition point, a point in which future is more important than past. The moment was actually reached long ago but past stories are stubborn and we hold onto them. Yet, I heard a commentator say that this week that this would be the last time there would be a big fuss about the anniversary of the Kennedy assassination. He said that by the by the 100^th anniversary it would be a moment of history but told without emotion and without the passion it is told today and without any who remember where they were on that fateful day when they heard the news. He is right. Time moves on and even if we choose lishmor et hadavar, to keep the matter of the past in mind, to keep reading the books and watching the videos, it is the future that matters.

        So, like Jacob, we must turn the page and look forward and to that I offer a prayer.

        O God: May we see the day when indiscriminate violence no more threatens or, God forbid, takes the lives of our leaders or those whom we love.

        May we find in ourselves and inspire in others the ability to be profiles in courage as we seek to overcome whatever obstacles stand in our way to build a meaningful life and to build a better world.

        May men and women, in our generation and in generations to come be inspired by those who find such joy in governing, such passion in leading a people and may the most honorable and the best and the brightest find their way into the political system.

        May we find ways to give help to those who need it before they can act on their horribly violent schemes. May we do all we can to keep weapons out of the hands of those who do not need them and can not responsibly use them.

        And, may we all, even after 50 years, find a way to shake off the sadness and look to the future as Jacob did, remembering not just the death but the sparkle in the eye, the vision of hope and the dedication to country shown by President John F. Kennedy.

        May his memory be for a blessing as we move forward to a better future.  Shabbat Shalom.