CURTAINS

Sermon for Kol Nidre night 5781

September 27, 2020

“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”

Do most of you recognize that line?  It’s from the movie the Wizard of Oz.  It’s spoken by the Wizard himself, played by Frank Morgan.  An article in the website www.shmoop.com sets the context:

“If you were in Dorothy's shoes (or should we say slippers?), the name the Wizard of Oz would sound magical. Who is this grand Wizard of Oz? He must be amazing, right?   Well, it turns out the Wizard of Oz isn't all he's cracked up to be. When Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, and the Scarecrow all find the Wizard, they hear a loud voice booming all around them, telling them to come back another time. It almost sounds as if the Wizard of Oz is some kind of god, sending his message down from the clouds.  But then Toto, Dorothy's dog, discovers that the Wizard is no god. In fact, he's just a guy operating a bunch of controls behind a green curtain. When Toto rips the curtain to the side, the Wizard of Oz realizes he's been found out, and tries to cover it up by shouting over his loudspeaker, "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!"[1]

What does all this have to do with Yom Kippur you may ask?

Well, in recent days I have been thinking about the connection between “the man behind the curtain” in the Wizard of Oz and “the man behind the curtain” – aka the Kohen Gadol or High Priest – in the ancient rites of Yom Kippur.

In our Torah reading for tomorrow morning, Leviticus 16, it says:

 1 “Adonai spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they drew too close to the presence of the Eternal. 2 Adonai said to Moses: Tell your brother Aaron that he is not to come at will into the Shrine behind the curtain, in front of the cover that is upon the ark, lest he die; for I appear in the cloud over the cover.”

The Torah is speaking of the Mishkan, the portable shrine that the people carried around with them in the wilderness and that tradition teaches was the predecessor of the more elaborate Bet Hamikdash – the Temple that King Solomon built in Jerusalem in the 10th century B.C.E.  The Bet Hamikdash was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E., rebuilt on a possibly smaller scale some seventy years later, and then destroyed again by the Romans in 70 C.E.

Tradition teaches that when those first and second Temples stood, the Kohen Gadol  or High Priest would go מבית לפרכת (behind the curtain) to the innermost sanctuary, the Holy of Holies, once a year – on Yom Kippur—to bring about atonement for himself, for his household, for his fellow Kohanim, and for the nation as a whole.

For our ancestors, this was the real thing.  It was no fake gimmicry as in the Wizard of Oz. 

And when it all came to a violent and tragic end in 70 C.E., that could have been the end of Judaism itself.

However, that was not the end of Judaism.  As is taught in the classic text Avot de Rabbi Natan ---

“Once Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai was leaving Jerusalem, and his student Rabbi Joshua followed him. Seeing the Temple in ruins, Rabbi Joshua said: “Woe are we! For we see in ruins the place where Israel’s sins could be atoned for!” Then Rabban Yoḥanan told him: “Be not upset, my son. There is another way of gaining atonement that is just as effective. That is: deeds of lovingkindness.” For it is written, “I desire lovingkindness, not sacrifice” (Hosea 6).[2] “

However, even then, a nostalgic longing remained for the former glorious era of the days of the Temple.  Which is how it comes to pass that our liturgy includes evocations of those sacrifices that were offered up in days of old. In Tractate Ta’anit of the Talmud, the sages portray Abraham asking God what would happen to the Jewish people in the future if the Temple were destroyed and sacrificial offerings could no longer be brought. God answers Abraham saying: 

כבר תקנתי להם סדר קרבנות. בזמן שקוראין בהן לפני, מעלה אני עליהם כאילו הקריבום לפני -- ואני מוחל להם על כל עונותיהם

“I have already enacted for them the order of offerings. When they read them before Me, I will ascribe them credit as though they had sacrificed them before Me -- and I will pardon them for all their transgressions. [3]”

That reading takes on especially elaborate form in the liturgy of Yom Kippur when we read Seder Avodah , which we’ll be doing tomorrow afternoon at 4:30 p.m.

Our machzor translates “Seder Avodah” as “Avodah Service”.  And this part of the Yom Kippur liturgy is often called “The Service of the Kohen Gadol” or “The Service of the High Priest.”

However, as many of you may know – the word “Seder” – which is its official title – doesn’t mean “Service” .  Seder means “Order”.  And hearing that word “Seder” --- a word I’m sure you all know --- reminds us of what other important Jewish holiday?

Passover, of course. 

I think it’s no coincidence that our tradition refers to the Service of the Kohen Gadol in the Yom Kippur liturgy as a “SEDER”   - reminding us of the “SEDER” we gather for on Passover night.

At the Passover “SEDER” we are invited to imagine that we ourselves are there --- that we ourselves are going forth out of slavery to freedom.

And on Yom Kippur, when we read the “SEDER” of the Kohen Gadol we are invited to think of ourselves as if we ourselves are there --- that we are standing in the courtyard of the Bet Hamikdash, that we ourselves are hearing the High Priest from behind the curtain/ מבית לפרכת pronouncing the explicit name of God that only he can pronounce, only in that one place, only on that one day of the year – Yom Kippur.

And hearing that name we would fall on our faces and shout in response:  BARUKH SHEM KEVOD MALCHUTO LE’OLAM VA’ED --- Blessed be the Name of God’s sovereign Presence forever and ever -- as the Kohen Gadol would intone the critical verse:

כִּֽי־בַיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּ֛ה יְכַפֵּ֥ר עֲלֵיכֶ֖ם לְטַהֵ֣ר אֶתְכֶ֑ם מִכֹּל֙ חַטֹּ֣אתֵיכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֥י יְהוָ֖ה תִּטְהָֽרוּ׃

“For on this day atonement shall be made for you to cleanse you of all your sins; you shall be clean before Adonai.” [4]

What might these dramatic re-enactments in Jewish ritual do for us today? 

On Passover, we are challenged to internalize what freedom means in our lives --- and how we might expand the bounds of freedom in the world at large.

On Yom Kippur, we are challenged to internalize what true reconciliation means in our lives – between ourselves and those closest to us and between ourselves and God --- and how we might expand the bounds of reconciliation in the world at large.

When I think about Seder Avodah, about this admittedly strange ancient tableau of 2nd Temple Era ritual life,  what most strikes me is the image of the crowds of people gathered together in unity and commitment.  This aspect is particularly striking because there was never any mitzvah in the era of the 1st and 2nd Temples for the population to make pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Yom Kippur.  Our “Shalosh Regalim” , our “Three Pilgrimage Festivals” in Judaism were and are Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot.  However, as Rabbi Reuven Hammer explains in his book “Entering the High Holy Days”:

“The Yom Kippur rite of the High Priest in the Second Temple was without doubt the most impressive and important ritual of ancient Judaism.  In the course of time, it became the most solemn moment of the Jewish year, the moment in which the key elements of holiness come together:  the holiest individual, the holiest time, the holiest place.  The result was that although Yom Kippur is not one of the festivals when Jews are commanded to attend the Temple in Jerusalem, multitudes thronged there to witness the ritual and to hear the words of the High Priest […] From a religious standpoint, it was of supreme importance as the time when forgiveness and atonement could be attained.” [5]

Those multitudes did not have to be there.  But yet they came.

I imagine that they felt that that were aspects of their lives that had gotten out of sync.  That somehow the lives they were leading were not what they could be. 

But this magic of the Kohen Gadol doing whatever it was he was doing behind that curtain, that this would make everything all better – that this would MAKE JUDEA GREAT AGAIN.

As for you and I, methinks we’re more like Dorothy and her friends than we are like our ancestors gathered in that Temple courtyard. 

We can see behind the curtain.

We know that it all can’t just be done FOR US.

We know that we, ourselves, have work to do if we are to make America great again – or if we are to make America great for the first time – let alone if we are to heal the world at large.

These prayers, these rituals, these hymns – they can inspire us, they can motivate us, they can comfort us.  I know they do for me.

But the work remains.

Some versions of Seder Avodah feature this wistful concluding observation ---

אַשְׁרֵי עַֽיִן רָאֲתָה כָל אֵֽלֶּה

“HAPPY IS THE EYE THAT SAW ALL THIS!”

For us it’s not so simple.

But we remain full of hope and determination.

Gmar chatimah tovah/ May we all be sealed in the Book of Life for a good year – us, our families, our friends, our country, our world.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg (September 2020/ Tishri 5781)

[1] https://www.shmoop.com/quotes/pay-no-attention-man-behind-the-curtain.html

[2] Avot de-Rabbi Natan 11a (translation : Rabbi Ron Aigen)

[3] Ta’anit 27b

[4] Lev. 16:20

[5] Reuven Hammer, Entering the High Holy Days, pp. 156-157.

EVEN MORE SO

Sermon for First Day of Rosh Hashanah 5781

September 19, 2020

(Note: This sermon, like all my recent sermons, was delivered over Zoom. The text below includes some “stage directions".” and a link to a picture on Twitter that is worth clicking on to get the full effect of my words.)

Last night I started my Rosh Hashanah evening sermon by observing that this is not a normal year.

But another way of looking at it is that this is a hyper-normal year.

Other years we have faced the devastating effects of climate change.  This year even more so.

Other years our consciences have been prodded by the prevalence of racism in our country.  This year even more so.

Other years we have been confronted by societal fissures between the political left and the political right --- with each side getting more and more challenged by its most extreme elements. This year even more so.

Our tradition expresses the hope for social harmony – As it says in the Shacharit Amidah:   Barcheinu avinu kulanu ke’echad be’or panekha

“Bless us, O heavenly parent, all of us, as one. with the light of your presence”  --

BUT THIS YEAR WE ARE SO FAR FROM THAT IDEAL.

A Presidential election looms in which millions of our fellow Americans are convinced that the future of the nation hangs in the balance depending on whether or not their candidate of choice is victorious. 

And millions of our fellow Americans are frightened that the election itself will be marred by fraud.

The other day I even found myself saying out loud while alone in my living room –

“Okay Vladimir Putin.  You win.  I no longer have trust in the integrity of the American political process.” 

And so, we must not just make sure to vote.  We must also make sure that our ballot gets delivered and counted.

As a former First Lady advised one recent evening: 

We've got to vote early, in person if we can. We've got to request our mail-in ballots right now, tonight, and send them back immediately and follow-up to make sure they're received. And then, make sure our friends and families do the same. We have got to grab our comfortable shoes, put on our masks, pack a brown bag dinner and maybe breakfast too, because we've got to be willing to stand in line all night if we have to.[1]

In this upcoming election, I know who I support.

And let me be sure to share with you that there are people I love and respect who support the other side.

And I pray that, as a nation, we can somehow reconcile and come together no matter what happens later this fall.

Barcheinu avinu kulanu ke’echad be’or panekha

Bless us, O heavenly parent, all of us, as one. with the light of your presence  --

May that light shine upon us all – Jews and non-Jews, Republicans (both Trumpists and never-Trumpers and Democrats (both the woke and the not-yet-woke) , both Blacks and Whites and every shade of skin color in between, both gays and straights and every orientation in between, both men and women and every gender in between.

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

And then there’s the pandemic.

Those gut-wrenching questions in Unetaneh Tokef resonate so strongly this year:  

“How many shall pass away and how many shall be born,

who shall live and who shall die,

who in the fullness of years and who before their time.

Who by fire and who by water,

who by the sword and who by wild beast,

who by hunger and who by thirst,

who by earthquake and who by plague, “

What are the answers to those questions?

At this juncture, we do not know.  But we do know that in the past few months over 190,000 of our fellow Americans have died from coronavirus-related causes. 

Last week, on the 19th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001, I wrote to some friends:

“3000 dead in 2001, I'm angry. 190,000 dead in 2020, I'm numb. Or maybe it's vice versa.”

The other day when I was davening the weekday morning Shacharit service at home I found myself focusing on one particular phrase.  That phrase is found in the Tachanun prayers that traditionally follow the weekday morning Amidah:

ּ וַאֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה כִּ֥י עָלֶ֖יךָ עֵינֵֽינוּ׃

“And as for us, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”

That might sound like a passive, fatalistic approach to life

אֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה כִּ֥י עָלֶ֖יךָ עֵינֵֽינוּ׃

“And as for us, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”

Some background:  During most of the weekday morning prayers it’s fine to be sitting.  Then, at the Amidah, it’s traditional to stand. But during Tachanun (which means “supplication”) it’s traditional to sit, lean forward, and rest your head on your arm.

[DEMONSTRATE THIS]

In that cowering position we say, quoting Psalm 6  ---

חָנֵּ֥נִי יְ-ה-וָ-ה֮ כִּ֤י אֻמְלַ֫ל אָ֥נִי רְפָאֵ֥נִי יְ-ה-וָ֑-ה כִּ֖י נִבְהֲל֣וּ עֲצָמָֽי׃

Have mercy on me, Adonai, for I languish; heal me, Adonai, for my bones shake with terror.

וְ֭נַפְשִׁי נִבְהֲלָ֣ה מְאֹ֑ד ואת [וְאַתָּ֥ה] יְ֝-ה-ו-ָ֗ה עַד־מָתָֽי׃

My whole being is stricken with terror, and You, Adonai—O, how long!

שׁוּבָ֣ה יְ֭-ה-וָ-ה חַלְּצָ֣ה נַפְשִׁ֑י ה֝וֹשִׁיעֵ֗נִי לְמַ֣עַן חַסְדֶּֽךָ׃

Turn, Adonai, set my soul free! Save me for the sake of your love!

My friends, I ask you, in the past year, how many of us cannot say that we have had days that make us feel like that?

But. funny thing though…

A few paragraphs later in Tachanun, when we get to the phrase I mentioned before: 

וַאֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה כִּ֥י עָלֶ֖יךָ עֵינֵֽינוּ׃

“And as for us, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”

When we get to that phrase it is traditional to stand upright. 

For me, doing so produces a visceral effect.  It’s like the authors of the siddur are saying --- “Okay.  Stand tall. Enough moping around. Let’s see what we can do about whatever is ailing us.  Let’s see what we can do about whatever is ailing the world. Let’s see what we can do (in the words of the Aleinu) “Letaken olam bemalchut shaddai” / “to repair the world through God’s divine power.”    

**********

So much of our lives is dependent on our personal outlooks.  Is the glass half empty or half full?

When you see a picture like this:

https://twitter.com/NAChristakis/status/1305263928528777223/photo/1

DO YOU READ THIS AS --- You don’t matter. Give up!

OR --- “You matter!  Don’t give up!”

During the past few months, I have made (or at least attempted to make) check in phone calls with every member household in our congregation.  And our dedicated Temple Board members did so as well. 

Some of us were struggling emotionally and/or financially. 

To all of them let me say [RESUME SCREEN SHARE OF TWITTER IMAGE]– You matter! Don’t give up!

[STOP SCREEN SHARE]

At the same time, as I personally experienced, and as I learned from my conversations with many of you --- even with all of the disease and strife in the world around us --- we still recognize that we are blessed to be living in this beautiful place. 

And we know --- WE KNOW ----that --- in this congregation – we are among friends.  And we know – WE KNOW --- that --- in this life --- “We are loved by an unending love”[2] ---  אהבת עולם

It is indeed a challenge --- to be present with the hardships of others and of our own while at the same time acknowledging and being thankful for our blessings. 

Life is like that. 

This past year ---  even more so.

In the year to come, though it may seem like -- וַאֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה we just do not know what we shall do ---  don’t give up.  You matter. And there are manifold blessings waiting in store for us each and every day when we are ready to open ourselves to them. 

And there is much to be done.

May we be active participants in the year to come in the healing of our bodies, in the healing of our souls, in the healing of our country, in the healing of our world.

Leshanah tovah tikatevu  May we be inscribed in the Book of Life for a sweet and healthy year.

Amen

(c) Rabbi David Steinberg (September 2020/ Tishri 5781)

[1] https://www.cnn.com/2020/08/17/politics/michelle-obama-speech-transcript/index.html

[2] See Rabbi Rami Shapiro, “Unending Love” (as adapted and used in Kol Haneshama Shabbat Vehagim siddur, page 61)

KEEPING IT TOGETHER

Sermon for Erev Rosh Hashanah 5781

September 18, 2020

This is not a normal year. 

Right now, I am standing in an almost empty sanctuary talking to you over a computer. 

That’s not normal. 

Some of us may be calling this “the new normal” but from my perspective it is still the temporary abnormal. 

But we don’t yet know how long that “temporary” will be.

In the program calendar for 5781 that those of you who are Temple members received in the mail as part of your High Holiday packet, you might have noticed that we wrote that we hoped we could start having in-person services at Temple again in late November.  But really, we don’t know.  It’s all still a question mark.

When Covid-19 related closures started happening back in March we hoped that they would be short lived.  But here we are in September, still trying to figure out how to live in the midst of a pandemic.

At least, through the miracle of Zoom, we can interact with each other, albeit in a somewhat awkward and clumsy way.  So, how about this – would you all do me a favor right now and please unmute yourselves and let’s all say “Shanah Tovah” or “Happy New Year” or “Gut Yuntif” to one another --- decidedly not in precise unison.  Okay – GO!!!

[ALL EXCHANGE GREETINGS]

Ah, that’s nice.  I really miss seeing you all together here at Temple in person!

But I’m so glad that you’ve made the effort to sign on to this Zoom call to take part in the service tonight.  And I hope to see you (and I DO see you – at least if you haven’t turned off your video camera) on other Zoom services throughout the High Holidays and, indeed, on Shabbat as well until this horrible pandemic has been vanquished and we can go back to meeting in person. 

(And I hope that, if your own health concern calculations permit it, that I’ll see some of you --- socially distanced as appropriate – at our congregational Tashlikh at Chester Bowl tomorrow at 4:00 p.m. or at our Rosh Hashanah family service (including children’s tashlikh) at Chester Bowl at 4:00 p.m. on Sunday.)

But, still, this is not a normal year.

I’ll share an anecdote from my own spiritual practice that illustrates what it has been like for me:

In the “V’ahavta” we read about the mitzvah:

וּקְשַׁרְתָּ֥ם לְא֖וֹת עַל־יָדֶ֑ךָ וְהָי֥וּ לְטֹטָפֹ֖ת בֵּ֥ין עֵינֶֽיךָ׃

“You shall bind them (i.e., bind God’s words) as a sign upon your hand and let them serve as a symbol before your eyes” (Deut. 6:8)

Traditionally, on mornings that are not Shabbat morning and not the morning of a major Jewish holiday, that commandment

קְשַׁרְתָּ֥ם לְא֖וֹת עַל־יָדֶ֑ךָ וְהָי֥וּ לְטֹטָפֹ֖ת בֵּ֥ין עֵינֶֽיךָ׃

is concretized through the wearing of tefillin on the arm and the head. 

In recent weeks and months when I have tied the tefillin straps on my arm and hand and placed the other tefillin on my forehead, I’ve had this weird feeling that the tefillin straps were holding me together, as if I were like a scarecrow that would fall apart but for these cords keeping me in one piece.

Perhaps some of you have felt this way lately as well – Maybe it’s not tefillin straps that are symbolically keeping you in one piece; maybe it’s yoga or meditation or running or playing music.

Whatever you are doing to cope and stay centered – whatever you are doing to keep it together -- more power to you!  Keep it up!  Find what works for you!

(Though I can personally recommend that if you are ever feeling stressed, picking up a siddur and davenning can be a very comforting, stabilizing experience.)

Here’s another Jewish teaching that has stuck with me lately – it’s a commentary on a verse from that same Torah portion, Parashat Va’etchanan, that includes the Shema and V’ahavta. 

The opening verse of that parasha, Deuteronomy 3:23, says this:

וָאֶתְחַנַּן, אֶל-ה', בָּעֵת הַהִוא, לֵאמֹר.

“I pleaded with Adonai at that time, saying,”

That’s Moses talking there.  It’s part of his farewell speech to the Israelites that takes up virtually the entire book of Deuteronomy.

So what was Moses pleading about to God when he said:

וָאֶתְחַנַּן, אֶל-ה', בָּעֵת הַהִוא, לֵאמֹר.

“I pleaded with Adonai at that time, saying,”

The verses that follow say that Moses was pleading to enter the Promised Land but that God said “No!”

All of us right now are fervently hoping (whether or not we do so in the context of pleading to God) for an end to this pandemic, for an end to racial injustice, for an end to economic insecurity, for an end to hate, for an end to war, for an end to despair.  We hope God won’t tell us “no” like God told Moses “no”.

We want to enter that promised land:  That promised land of recovery, that promised land of economic security, that promised land of justice, and brotherhood and sisterhood, that promised land of shalom. 

In short, we want to be written in the Book of Life.

God said no to Moses.  Will God say no to us?

So, anyway, here’s that commentary that I have found so insightful and comforting these past weeks and months:

Rabbi Lev Yitzchak of Berditchev, who lived in Eastern Europe from 1740 to 1809 says this about the verse

 וָאֶתְחַנַּן, אֶל-ה', בָּעֵת הַהִוא, לֵאמֹר.

“I pleaded with Adonai at that time, saying,”

He notes that the word “לאמר” – which we usually translate as “saying” can also be translated as an infinitive verb: “to say”.  So we can read the verse as follows:

וָאֶתְחַנַּן, אֶל-ה', בָּעֵת הַהִוא, לֵאמֹר.

I pleaded with Adonai at that time to say,”

-- or to put it more elegantly –

“I pleaded with Adonai at that time for the ability to say   -- for the ability to express my thoughts, my hopes, my prayers.” 

Lev Yitzchak says this:

קודם לא היה יכול לאמר, כי היה בוש מלפניו יתברך

“Before that time Moses was unable “leymor”/ unable “to say” (which we understand to mean “unable to pray”) because he felt ashamed before God.”

והיה צריך להתפלל שיוכל להתפלל

“So he needed to pray that he would be able to pray.”[1]

Thus, the “pleading” referred to in Deuteronomy 3:23 doesn’t refer to the request to enter the land that we find in the subsequent verses.

Rather, the pleading (according Lev Yitzchak) is simply for the ability to pray at all.

And yes, Moses goes on to pray eloquently for the ability to enter the Land of Israel with his people. 

So, in that sense, God did grant Moses’ first prayer – the prayer that he be granted the ability to pray.

I have thought about that commentary a lot recently. 

When we are stressed out and upset --- as we have had ample reason to be in recent weeks and months --- sometimes the healthiest, most healing thing we can do for ourselves is simply to slow down, to breathe deeply, to reflect deeply, and to express what is in our hearts.

If we can formulate the prayer – that, in and of itself, is an answer to our prayers.

Even if what we desire might or might not come to pass.

Whatever happens in this crazy moment in which we are now living, may we at least be granted that prayer – that we be able to pray.

Dena Weiss, the director of the Bet Midrash at the Hadar Institute in New York, says it better than I can. 

She writes:

“We often feel stymied by our inability to say exactly what we want to or to put our complex thoughts or feelings into words.  Moshe’s plea to be allowed to pray emboldens us to try.  It may be embarrassing, we may feel unworthy, we may feel frustrated, but the venture is worth praying for and waiting for. […] Whenever we pray to pray, the response from God is always yes.” [2]

We’ve got a lot of praying to do in the next ten days.  May it be a meaningful, healing and restorative experience that we can share together as a holy congregation. And as for the year ahead ---

Lshanah tovah tikatevu/ May we all be inscribed in the Book of Life and may life itself get back to some semblance of normality before too long.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg  (September 2020)

[1] https://www.sefaria.org/Deuteronomy.3.23?lang=bi&aliyot=0&p2=Kedushat_Levi%2C_Deuteronomy%2C_Vaetchanan.1&lang2=he

[2] https://www.hadar.org/torah-resource/think-you-pray#source-7531

RABBI’S BULLETIN ARTICLE FOR SEPTEMBER 2020/ ELUL 5780 – TISHREI 5781

The month of Elul on the Jewish calendar this year began at sundown on August 20th and concludes with the arrival of Rosh Hashanah (1st of Tishri) at sundown on September 18th.  This is traditionally a time for each of us to undertake cheshbon hanefesh  (“an accounting of the soul”) as we review our deeds, misdeeds, acts and omissions of the year that is ending.  Part of this process is the making of amends with those in our lives whom we may have hurt or offended.  The process culminates at Yom Kippur (the “Day of Atonement”), on the 10th of Tishri, which this year begins at sundown on September 27th.  The sages teach that the 10th of Tishri was the day on which Moses returned from the mountain top with the second set of tablets, replacing the first set that he had smashed in the wake of the incident of the Golden Calf. 

The second set of tablets thus symbolizes the possibility of forgiveness and of moving forward despite the mistakes of the past.  It’s not exactly about “letting bygones be bygones.” Our tradition teaches that the broken fragments of the first set of tablets were placed next to the unbroken replacement tablets in the Ark of the Covenant.  They remain part of our “permanent record.”  And indeed, the literal translation of the Hebrew word “kippur” is not exactly “atonement” but rather “covering over.” (The cover of the ark of the covenant in Hebrew is called “kapporet,” from the same Hebrew root as “kippur”.).  Covered, not erased.

To me, what this teaches is that our experiences in life remain with us.  There is no “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”  In the normal state of affairs, we don’t obliterate past sins and hurts so much as we move past them and incorporate their lessons into our future behavior.   So too do our acts of kindness, our joys and our loves in our past remain part of who we are even after they are behind us chronologically. 

We hope and pray that all our experiences leading up to the present moment can help us to be better people in the new year.  

The year 5780 that is now ending has been more of an emotional roller coaster than any time I can remember in my life, with the possible exception of the days and months following the attacks of September 11, 2001.  We are all trying to live our lives as normally as possible while 170,000 of our fellow Americans have died from Covid-19 and while our world is still in the throes of the pandemic.  And we are all trying to be Rodfei Tzedek  (“pursuers of righteousness”) while the legacy of our society’s “original sins” of slavery, Jim Crow and systemic racism have yet to be even covered over, let alone erased. 

It’s a time of cheshbon hanefesh not just in our personal lives but in the life of our nation. And as national elections loom ahead, we find ourselves in the midst of some of the worst societal fissures that I can ever recall.  

And we won’t even get to hug each other in shul this High Holiday season!

But let’s not despair.  We still, each and every one of us, have so many blessings to appreciate and so much to be thankful for each and every day.  We do plan to meet in person at Chester Bowl for Tashlich (on the first afternoon of Rosh Hashanah) and for a family service (on the second afternoon of Rosh Hashanah). And our High Holiday services on Zoom will be a time when we can connect as well – with one another and with the Divine.

As the saying goes “gam zeh ya’avor” (“This too shall pass.”)

I wish for everyone a meaningful High Holiday season.  As 5781 approaches, let us be gentle with ourselves and one another – yet fierce in our pursuit of a more just and compassionate society.

L’shanah tovah tikateyvu 

(“May you be inscribed for a good year”),
Rabbi David Steinberg
rabbidavid@jewishduluth.org

FUGGEDABOUTIT!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

August 2020/ Elul 5780

SOME THINGS ARE PUZZLING -- SOME THINGS NOT

Thoughts on Chukkat  5780/2020

(Dvar Torah given Friday 6/26/20)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As the Minnesota Department of Health reminds us:

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

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

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

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

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

And further, they remind us that

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what do we know?

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

I find by experience, not by reasoning,

but by my own discovery that God is near me,

and I can be near God at all times.

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

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

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

But I know I do.

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

Shabbat shalom.

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

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

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

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

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

THOUGHTS ON KORACH

(Num. 16:1 – 18:29)

Dvar Torah delivered on Friday evening 6/19/20

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’ll teach ‘em.

One wonders how it all came to this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eric Garner 

Ezell Ford

Michelle Cusseaux

Tanisha Anderson

Tamir Rice

Natasha McKenna

Walter Scott

Bettie Jones

Philando Castile

Botham Jean

Atatiana Jefferson 

Eric Reason 

Dominique Clayton 

Breonna Taylor 

George Floyd 

Rayshard Brooks.

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

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

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

June 2020/ Sivan 5780

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

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

RABBI DAVID'S JUNE 2020 BULLETIN ARTICLE

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

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

(Num. 6: 24-26)

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

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

 (Num. 11:28-29)

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

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

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

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

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

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

L’shalom,

Rabbi David Steinberg

rabbidavid@jewishduluth.org

RABBI DAVID'S MAY 2020 TEMPLE ISRAEL BULLETIN ARTICLE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Chag Same’ach, 

Rabbi David Steinberg 

<rabbidavid@jewishduluth.org> 

PROGRESSIVE ZIONISM PEP TALK

Sermon for Yom Kippur morning 5780

October 9, 2019

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

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

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

SHEMA YISRAEL ADONAI ELOHEINU ADONAI ECHAD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Isaiah 49:6 proclaims in similar fashion:  

וּנְתַתִּ֙יךָ֙ לְא֣וֹר גּוֹיִ֔ם לִֽהְי֥וֹת יְשׁוּעָתִ֖י עַד־קְצֵ֥ה הָאָֽרֶץ

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

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

A light unto the nations if you will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

As it stated:

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

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

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

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

What a difference a century makes!

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

וַהֲבִיאֵנוּ לְשָׁלום מֵאַרְבַּע כַּנְפות הָאָרֶץ. וְתולִיכֵנוּ קומְמִיּוּת לְאַרְצֵנוּ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here comes the caveat now:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ask the Kurds.

Ask the Ukrainians.

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

As the psalmist reminds us:

אִֽם־אֶשְׁכָּחֵ֥ךְ יְֽרוּשָׁלִָ֗ם תִּשְׁכַּ֥ח יְמִינִֽי׃ 

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

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

And may we do our part in making it so.

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

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

Tishri 5780/ October 2019

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

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

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

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

[5] Psalms 137:5-6