tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34030180144490386092024-02-18T20:00:36.932-07:00A Bit of Bible, Biodiversity and British Being: Rabbi Neil's BlogAn exploration of spirituality from Santa Fe's Eco-Rabbi.Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-32955922555845390742022-06-24T15:42:00.000-07:002022-06-24T15:42:00.592-07:00Facing the Contemporary Crusaders<p>Back in 2019, I spoke about Forced Birth Extremists and how their war on women was the result of the adoption of an outdated view of science in which everything was broken down into its constituent parts, leading to ignoring vital relationships that exist, for example, the symbiotic relationship between a mother and a fetus. A woman is not a box into which a child is placed, she is not a vessel for carrying another independent life form. The issue of bodily autonomy is not, I explained, that she is free to do with her body as she wishes, which would not be a Jewish position, but that she and the child are one and therefore only she can determine what is best. I shared then that Judaism also says that the life of the pregnant woman takes precedence because the fetus is not considered to have a nefesh, a soul, a being, until it has emerged from her. I also said in that sermon that stating that an independent life begins at conception is a dispassionate attempt to separate a part of a woman’s body from her. In my conclusion to that sermon, I said that “the war on women must not be separated from the war against nature, against the poor or against people of color.” In the three years since that sermon, my thoughts on that sentence have developed, and this evening, I will explain more clearly what I meant by that, and what that war means to us.</p><br />In 1971, 1974 and 1976 - after Roe v Wade was passed - the Southern Baptist Convention passed resolutions affirming that women should have access to abortion for a variety of reasons. It was desegregation that started evangelical communities getting involved in politics because they wanted their own segregated schools while desegregation was happening in public schools. The loss of white-only spaces threatened the white evangelical leaders. They then started to become more politically involved in favor of the Republican Party to try to defend their white-only spaces. But involvement in politics still remained limited in that evangelical community until Republican political activist Paul Weyrich realized that race wasn’t enough to bring sufficient people to the polls, and so instead he started to amplify the anti-abortion message as a religious message. The Moral Majority was then formed partially on the back of this new cause. Through the rhetoric of returning to so-called traditional values and saving innocent unborn babies, instead of the actual reason of preserving segregation in private spaces, the evangelical community was driven to the polls en masse for the Republican Party. I had this verified for me recently by someone formerly from a deeply evangelical Christian background, who told me what was underlying the drive to end abortion. He said it wasn’t to save unborn lives and that’s just what’s spun to the public. He said that around evangelical dining room tables, in the home away from the media, the conversation is always the same – that in their minds, restricting abortion is about stopping the socio-economic advancement of the African American community. According to a recent survey by the Pew Research Center, nearly three-quarters (74%) of white evangelical Protestants today believe abortion should be illegal in all or most cases. However, almost two-thirds of black Protestants believe that the procedure should be legal in all or most cases. That disparity in belief is important. 49% of women in the US who have had an abortion are below the poverty level. (Guttmacher Institute, Abortion Patient Survey 2014) and one in five African Americans live below the poverty line, as opposed to fewer than one in ten non-Hispanic whites. Black women have abortions at roughly four times the rate of white women in this country (https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7436774/). Banning abortion means, amongst other things, keeping African American women out of the workplace. Without openly saying it, the anti-abortion movement is, at least in part, based in a deeply racist ideology. That doesn’t mean that everyone opposed to abortion is racist, of course not, but anyone who fights to restrict abortion access is definitely negatively affecting the African American community.<br /><br />This most recent Supreme Court ruling is not just about women’s rights and white supremacy, though. In March 1980, the same evangelical Christian leaders who wanted their own segregated colleges and who were becoming motivated over abortion because they thought that might help their segregation cause, wrote a petition to President Jimmy Carter saying that “God’s judgment is going to fall on America as on other societies that allowed homosexuality to become a protected way of life.” Two years later, Larry Speakes, the press secretary for Ronald Reagan whom the so-called Moral Majority had catapulted into power, laughed off the developing AIDS crisis as a “gay plague.” It would be three more years before Reagan would even say the word “AIDS” in public. Today, Justice Clarence Thomas clearly stated that the Supreme Court should now reassess whether there is a right for married couples to obtain contraceptives, whether there is the right to engage in private sexual acts, and whether there is the right to same-sex marriage. And this week, the new Republican Party platform in Texas stated that homosexuality was an “abnormal lifestyle choice.” These things are all related.<br /><br />The Crusades, a holy war waged by the Latin Church, are said to have lasted from the years 1095 to 1291. They were originally a series of violent wars raged by Christians to secure particular sites for Christian worship. On the way to the Holy Land, the Crusaders marched through Europe and slaughtered anyone they found who did not advance their cause, particularly Jews. Those Jews who survived the pogroms were often told to convert by force, and many stood in protest and took their own lives instead of accepting this perverse violent form of Christianity. The Crusades were a war with the backing of leading Christian figures on those who thought, looked and behaved differently to them. The Crusades did not actually end in 1291 with the fall of Acre. The Reconquista of the Iberian Peninsula from 1123 to 1492 was also called a crusade. In 1147, pagan tribes throughout Europe were attacked in what was called a crusade. In 1199, a crusade was launched against Christian heretics. The Cathars were subject to a crusade in the 13th century, the Hussites in the 15th century and even the Protestants were subject to a crusade in the 16th century. If, as I said, the Crusades were a war with the backing of leading Christian figures on those who thought, looked and behaved differently to them, then I think we can say that we are seeing a 21st century crusade in this country. That contemporary crusade is a war on women, on people of color, on the LGBTQ+ community, and on the poor, with a war on nature as a natural offshoot of that ideology. It is a war in which these crusaders invade the private sphere of doctor-patient confidentiality, and now even look to expand the field of battle to the private realm of the bedroom. It may not be open warfare with swords and siege engines, but yesterday’s deliberate flooding of guns into the streets as a new constitutional right will absolutely cause more bloodshed. The immediate restriction of healthcare access to women in around half the states in this country absolutely will cause more death.<br /><br />The crusaders believed that they were doing God’s will, even as they killed countless innocent others, but what they did was profoundly evil. The same must be said of today’s American Crusaders. They declare anyone who doesn’t look like them or love like them or pray like them or think like them to be untraditional, ungodly, abnormal, even abhorrent. Just like the Crusaders rampaging through Europe believing that God was on their side, these people don’t care about innocent people, they want a white, straight, sexist, and Christian country and they will excuse any blood spilled to get it. They fight against higher educational establishments for their multiculturalism because they cannot escape their segregationist origins and because they must restrict any learning that counters their own. They are not fighting for freedom - they are fighting to limit freedom because they consider human beings to be deviant sinners who need to be protected from their own evil urges. They are not fighting for life – they are an open death cult that hates life in this world and only truly considers life in the world to come. They tolerate extreme violence against women, saying that the child that comes from rape “is something that God intended to happen.” (Richard Mourdock, www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2012/october-web-only/are-pregnancies-even-from-rape-gift-from-god.html). In her extraordinary article “Jesus was a Rape Baby,” (https://artscisarah.medium.com/jesus-was-a-rape-baby-98e652f2d8f8) Sarah McDavitt Woods argues that a religion that is based on the nonconsensual impregnation of a young girl can easily lead to “submission to and obedience of an anti-democratic, exploitative, abusive, authoritarian God whom his base wants to reign over the entire world, beginning with our wombs, expanding to our sexual and gender expression, and culminating in total control of our personal autonomy.”<br /><br />These people not only tolerate but embrace suffering – the regular slaughter of children in schools, the state-sanctioned police brutality against minorities, the poisoning of African and Native Americans in this country and worldwide by pollution – all the while giving their thoughts and prayers to those afflicted, because to them that is the Divine way. The former President said of today’s verdict that “God made the decision.” That is crusader mentality. The ultimate role of the crusader is dominion. “Dominionism is the theocratic idea that regardless of theological camp, means, or timetable, God has called conservative Christians to exercise dominion over society by taking control of political and cultural institutions.” (https://politicalresearch.org/2016/08/18/dominionism-rising-a-theocratic-movement-hiding-in-plain-sight#sthash.bUGC0hy6.dpbs) The American dominionist movement has been growing openly for fifty years in this country but American liberals have been too convinced of the power and inevitability of liberalism to see dominionists as the very real threat to democracy that they are. Not for nothing was there a riot on January 6th 2021 to try to overturn the democratic election process in this country fuelled by a President who had been specifically groomed by dominionists.<br /><br />A hundred years ago, European liberals stood idly by (Lev. 19:16) as another racist death cult started describing some of its citizens as untraditional, ungodly, abnormal, and abhorrent. Believing that liberalism would somehow magically save everyone from democracy-hating fascists who restricted the rights of their own citizens, believing that common sense would prevail and that the Enlightenment proved that human beings always worked towards liberty and equality, liberals around the world shook their heads but did nothing as violent speech turned into violent action. That death cult wasn’t specifically religious, but it certainly had the silent consent of the Church at the time for its torture and murder of Jews, of gays, of Romani people, of Jehovah’s Witnesses, and of people with disabilities, and all the while liberals around the world stood by doing nothing because they couldn’t believe something like this had built up on their watch because for years they hadn’t paid attention and hadn’t cared because it wasn’t them being targeted.<br /><br />Backing the now 50-year shift in this country in evangelical responses to abortion that I mentioned earlier were the writings of Francis Schaeffer who sold three million books on the importance of dominionism. His writings led to the “creeping theocratization of the Republican Party.” (https://politicalresearch.org/2016/08/18/dominionism-rising-a-theocratic-movement-hiding-in-plain-sight#sthash.bUGC0hy6.dpbs) Dominionism is, in its own words, bringing the perceived values of Heaven and making them manifest on earth, turning everywhere into a Christian theocratic society, just like the crusaders tried. Today, that means infiltrating political institutions and turning those institutions into tools of religious oppression, even by violence if necessary, as some dominionist authors claim. Dominionism, in their own words, means ending the separation of church and state. It means shunning places of higher learning for teaching the message of liberalism and multiculturalism, and instead promoting religious homeschooling as valid education because that is the only way that their perverse religious doctrine could be presented to children as fact. That turn from education to indoctrination led inevitably to tens of thousands of avoidable American deaths in the last two years as vaccination was openly called the work of the Devil and of untrustworthy science led by a secret cabal of Jews. And who in this country died most from COVID? People of color. All of this is deliberate, and all of it is connected.<br /><br />After today, let no-one be in any doubt that we are in a culture war the likes of which Western society has not faced for a hundred years. We are facing the obliteration of human rights, the eradication of privacy, the deliberate systemic deaths and repression of people of color, and the vile demonization and likely imprisonment of LGBTQ+ citizens, all from the legal institutions that are meant to protect us but are instead now controlled by dominionist crusaders who will stop at nothing to force their perverse vision of Christian society onto everyone for the sake of heaven.<br /><br />Of course, there are people who support today’s restriction of women’s rights who are not racist and who are not dominionists. Of course there are. Of course there are people who see this as an isolated moral or philosophical question and not part of a larger culture war. I believe that such people are now demonstrably mistaken and that they have unwittingly allied themselves with terrible people who ultimately seek to overturn not only their rights but the rights of their loved ones as well.<br /><br />I end with this thought. The first seven Crusades contained some very real victories for the dominionist crusaders, but ultimate victory was not theirs. Without question, they extended their power and influence through their outrageous evil acts, but they did not ultimately succeed. Similarly, these contemporary crusaders will not win ultimate victory if we stand up against them, if we refuse to accept their perverse, violent and oppressive version of Christianity. If we flee to safer shores, then what happens next is on us. We have to stay, we have to speak up, we have to fight this contemporary crusade. History cannot be allowed to repeat itself. A fascist death cult claiming to act for God cannot be allowed to win. For God’s sake, we cannot let it win. We will stand up against the crusaders without weapons of war, as our people did a thousand years ago. We must oppose them and everything they stand for and only by doing that we will thwart their evil ways. May such be God’s will, and let us say, Amen.Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-50065682098560956332021-07-09T15:19:00.000-07:002021-07-09T15:19:01.986-07:00Mattot-Mas’ey Sermon 2021 – Unintended Consequences<p><span style="text-align: justify;">In this week’s
double portion of Mattot-Masei, we see the people preparing to enter the land,
and clarifying the borders of the territory and how cities are to be used. Forty-eight
of the cities are to go to the priests, and six of them shall be designated as
cities of refuge. These cities of refuge are places where a person who has
killed someone may flee to avoid retribution by the victim’s family. Some
translations say that the murderer should flee to a city of refuge, but it’s
absolutely not a murderer – it’s someone who accidentally killed another person
with whom there had never been enmity in the past while performing a legal
activity. For example, our portion continues that if a person pushed someone without
malice and they died, if they threw an object without premeditation and it hit
someone and they died, or dropped something without seeing the victim before
they dropped it, then the unintended consequences of their actions mean that
they’re partially liable but not liable enough to deserve the death penalty
(Num. 35:22-23). Later in Deuteronomy (19:5), we learn of another specific example
of such killing – when a person is chopping a tree and the blade comes off the
axe and kills a person. In such a case, the unintended consequence of chopping
a tree is the ending of a human life, so just as with the stone or the
accidental nudge, the person with the axe has to flee and atone in a city of
refuge, and has to get there before the family of the deceased find them and
kill them out of revenge.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Both the Mishnah
and Talmud, the two major law codes that followed on from Torah, address many
similar situations, for example, what happens if a person is throwing stones
from one place to another and a person walks into their domain and is killed by
a flying stone? What if two people are playing catch with a stone and one
misses the catch and is killed? Should the person responsible whose actions had
the unintended consequence of someone else’s death go into banishment, flee to
a city of refuge, or face criminal proceedings? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Interestingly,
at the end of this week’s double-portion, we read of more unintended
consequences. Last week, Cantor Lianna spoke of Zelophehad who died with five
daughters and no sons, meaning that there was no-one to receive his
inheritance. The daughters entreat Moses to give them the inheritance instead.
Moses asks God, who says that their plea is just and that they should receive
the inheritance. The law is changed and from that point on, if a man dies with
no sons, the inheritance goes to his daughters instead. But…. there’s an
unintended negative consequence of that change in the law. Part of the laws of
inheritance were to keep property within each tribe, and tribal identity was
patriarchal. Women could marry someone from any tribe since they didn’t own
property. So, the change of law for the daughters of Zelophehad created an
unintended problem. If a daughter who has received inheritance marries someone
from another tribe, the property goes to that tribe and doesn’t stay in the
tribe it originated from, thereby diminishing the inheritance and the tribal
property. Moses hears the unintended consequence and rules that no property may
change from one tribe to another, so the daughters of Zelophehad marry their
cousins to ensure that their inheritance stays in the tribe. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">This is often
touted as an example of ritual creativity and of defending the rights of women
within the context of a strictly patriarchal society. Others see it less
positively and express concern that the freedom given to the daughters of
Zelophehad by God in last week’s reading are limited by Moses in this week’s.
My focus tonight is on a differing viewpoint, though - on the reality of
unintended consequences, because even God did not foresee the consequences of
God’s ruling last week! That’s quite extraordinary. The law from God did not
work in the human realm, the people complained, God changed the law, then the people
complained that the change created new problems. Theologically speaking, I
think that’s remarkable. This is God who grows and learns with us, God who
makes mistakes. I find something very refreshing in that. If nothing else, that
gives us permission to forgive ourselves for the unintended consequences of our
actions – if God can’t always foresee the unintended consequences, then it
should be okay when we don’t, either. That doesn’t mean that we should be
reckless or thoughtless, of course, but it means that everything is a work in
progress and it’s incumbent upon us not to react aggressively to a negative unintended
consequence. This goes back to the cities of refuge – who is the person seeking
refuge from? From the family of the deceased who are looking for revenge. Torah
just accepts that as a perfectly normal human response, but why? Why not focus
on the opposite, especially since this was not deliberate murder. But maybe
that’s the point – maybe Torah is presenting us with two differing models of
unintended consequences, and showing us that we have a choice in how to
respond. We can respond with anger, or we can respond calmly by changing the
system around us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">I appreciate,
though, that that perspective speaks of privilege. When the unintended
consequences repeatedly wear someone down, I can understand anger. Our lives of
luxury have definite negative consequences for others around the world. We may
not know the specific consequences of each individual act, but we do know the
unintended consequences of our lifestyles, and most of us, myself included, do
very little to change those lifestyles to minimize those consequences, because
of the comfort of privilege and because of how difficult it is to avoid those consequences
to someone half way across the world in a globalised capitalistic society.
There are other unintended consequences of our choices, such as perpetuating
racist or sexist social structures, for which perhaps sometimes the response
needs to be calm change and sometimes needs to be rage. I understand and
appreciate that. But what we’re talking about here, though, is not systemic
social structures or the consequences of how society is set up, but, at least
with the cities of refuge, we’re talking about the immediate, local unintended
consequences of one’s individual’s actions. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">According to our
tradition, even those individual actions can have enormous unintended
consequences. The most famous example of that comes from Talmud, Tractate
Gittin (55b), in the story of Kamsa and Bar Kamsa. A wealthy man means to
invite Kamsa to a party, but the wealthy man’s servant accidentally invites Bar
Kamsa, the wealthy man’s enemy. Bar Kamsa turns up to the party, and the
wealthy man orders him to leave. Bar Kamsa begs not to be humiliated in front
of the man’s guests, offering to pay for his food, then offering to pay for
half of the total expenses of the party then even offering to pay for the
entire party. The wealthy man is adamant, though, and Bar Kamsa is forced to
leave the party. But there were Rabbis at the party and Bar Kamsa is so angry
at them for not defending him that he visits with Caesar and says that the
Rabbis are planning to overthrow him. Caesar is skeptical as to whether or not
this is true and sends an animal to be sacrificed by the Rabbis. On the way to
the Rabbis, though, Bar Kamsa knicks the animal, thereby blemishing it. The
Rabbis reject the sacrifice, which Caesar then sees as proof of rebellion,
which leads to the Romans destroying the Temple and exiling the Jews. All of
that was the unintended consequence of delivering a party invitation to the
wrong person, or the unintended consequence of being a terrible host, or the
unintended consequence of not defending the honor of someone being embarrassed.
Seemingly small decisions can have enormous negative consequences. Bar Kamsa
responses with anger, just as Torah expects families to respond in the case of
accidental death. But it doesn’t have to be that way. We can respond as the
heads of the clan of Gilead son of Makir do, and try to resolve the issue
because, as I said before, if God Almighty didn’t foresee the unintended
consequences of something, we need to allow ourselves and others an opportunity
to address the negative consequences of something they said or did.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">There is real
irony in terms of unintended consequences when it comes to the law of cities of
refuge. A person must stay in a city of refuge until the High Priest dies. At
that point, it is said that the person has atoned and then they may leave the
city of refuge and the victim’s family have no claim against that person. What’s
the unintended consequence of that ruling? That everyone in the cities of
refuge are hoping that the High Priest will die quickly! Mishnah (Makkot 11a)
addresses this, saying that the mother of the High Priest provides clothing and
food for those in the cities of refuge so that they think favorably of her son
and don’t pray for his early death! So… a law that says that the inhabitants of
cities of refuge go free when the High Priest dies had the unintended negative
consequence of the mother of the High Priest having to supply six cities’ worth
of people with food and clothing! In other words, even Torah sometimes doesn’t
see the unintended negative consequences of its own laws.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">So, this week’s Torah
portion and its subsequent commentaries remind us of the need to consider the
consequences of our actions, and also give us permission to forgive ourselves
for not foreseeing all the unintended consequences of everything we say or do,
because even God and Torah don’t foresee all the negative unintended consequences.
It also gives us permission to express frustration at the negative unintended
consequences of the actions of others, but particularly extends an invitation
to us all to be forgiving of the unintended consequences of the actions of
others. And, ultimately, it gives us a theological insight, an opportunity to
relate to God in times when we make mistakes, a chance to find God not just in perfection
but in the inevitable imperfection of human life. So, may we use this week’s
Torah reading as an opportunity not to lament our mistakes but to learn from
them and to connect with God through them, and let us use it as an opportunity
to respond kindly to the mistakes of others and to connect with God through
them as well. May such moments be ones not of rage but of forgiveness,
understanding and true connection, and let us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-66029954956095685302021-06-18T14:50:00.005-07:002021-06-18T14:50:57.379-07:00The Returning Exiles Sermon – June 18th 2021<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">As
I mentally prepared for our first full Shabbat back to services, I found myself
wondering what the overriding metaphor of this moment would be, and the theme
of returning from exile seemed most appropriate. Exile has been the predominant
metaphor of Jewish existence throughout history – the Babylonian exile, the
exile from the land after the destruction of the Second Temple, the exile of
God in Jewish theology, exile from countries all around Europe throughout the
Middle Ages due to expulsion after expulsion. The precariousness of Jewish life,
the fragility of Jewish existence, has been a constant theme, until the modern
age when Jewish communities finally felt established and safe. The COVID-19
pandemic upended that and once again made us all exiles, from our community,
from each other and from our usual way of life. For perhaps the first time in
our lives, we have had a taste of the trauma of exile.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
other day when my interfaith colleague Rev Harry Eberts from First Presbyterian
and I spoke on the radio, we discussed chapter 3 of the book of Ezra, which
describes the emotions of returning from exile. It describes the mixture of joy
and sorrow expressed by the people. Joy is obvious – the return to community,
the return to a physical <i>minyan</i>, the return to a sense of sacred place,
to a physical centering of the community. But sorrow? Why would there be
sorrow? In the Book of Ezra, that sorrow is due to people remembering the way
things once were and feeling a sense of profound loss at what once was and can
never again be. Some of our members still express that concern of the new way
of life, and the impossibility of ever fully returning to what once was. More
than that, though, there are some who feel loss in our community as we return to
on-site services. Last Friday, for example, one member of our regular Zoom
worship community shared an impassioned reflection of what they will lose when
we return to physical services. For 65 weeks, we have held online services,
most of which have been on Zoom. In those services, we have prayed facing each
other – seeing each other’s faces, we have not had to look down at a siddur and
then up again at the community because they were all together in one view. We
formed an intimate community within the community, a close group of companions
travelling through the pandemic together, helping each other through the
darkest times on a weekly basis by studying together, praying together and
socializing online together. My hope is that in the coming weeks, we can hold as
much as possible onto that sense of intimacy socially and spiritually,
together. For those currently following online, please know that even though
you may not be physically with us, you are still an essential part of our community,
and the journey we have gone on in the past 15 months will be one that I always
treasure.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">My
mind therefore goes to the Torah portion of Nitzavim, to the covenant with God.
<i>Atem nitzavim hayom kulchem lifnei Adonai</i> – you who are standing here
this day before the Eternal your God. (Deut. 29:9). But who else does this
passage specifically mention? <i>V’lo itchem l’vad’chem anochi koret et hab’rit
hazot v’et ha’alah hazot, ki et asher yeshno poh imanu omeid hayom lifnei
Adonai eloheinu, <b>ve’et asher eineinu poh imanu hayom</b>. </i>Not only with
you alone do I make this covenant and this oath with those who are standing
here with us today before the Eternal our God…. <b><i>but also with those who
are not here with us today</i>.</b> (Deut. 29:13-14). Jewish tradition has
always understood “those who are not here with us today” as future generations
from that Biblical moment, but today it means something else – it means those
who are not able to be with us physically today because of their differing risk
to catching COVID-19, even post-vaccination. The last 15 months has created two
differing prayer groups under the umbrella of our Temple Beth Shalom community.
One is comfortable with in-person services… indeed has been craving them and
has found online worship isolating, the other is comfortable watching services
in their PJs while sipping margaritas on the couch. And, of course, there are
many people in-between, some of whom were planning on coming this evening but
once we relocated indoors due to the heat realized that they could not attend.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When
this pandemic started and we moved totally online, many Rabbis asked the
question – how are we going to bring people back once the pandemic is over? The
answer most people gave was that people will rush back because they’ll have so
profoundly missed each other. Now I realize that the question assumed that the
return to in-person services and the end of the pandemic would happen at the
same time, but that’s clearly not the case. There is still a pandemic, we are
still living in a pandemic, there are 100 new cases in our state every day,
people in this state die from this pandemic every day. The pandemic is not
over, and so we are here this evening not because it is over but because we are
the lucky ones. Most of us present this evening are, on the whole, the healthy
ones who have been vaccinated and for whom the vaccine is effective. We here
today have now therefore been given an awesome, essential responsibility – to
reach out to those who are not here physically with us today, to be
compassionate with those present who do not want to hug or shake hands, to give
space to those who still have much to fear from this pandemic. This moment has
the potential for extreme compassion…. a <i>demand </i>for extreme compassion, a
chance to see that not everyone is as lucky as we are, a chance for us to
listen without judgment and with love to the many differing responses to this
pandemic expressed in our community.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">One
place I saw that listening and love perfectly represented in our community over
the last few months was in the Reopening Committee, the group of people who are
responsible for us being able to even be here this evening. In that committee
of deliberately widely varying opinions, members listened to each other,
learned from each other, and compromised. These members meet for hours every
week, and communicate via innumerable emails, to try to balance the widely
varying needs of our community members. It is thanks to Wendy Steinberg,
Marlene Schwalje, Debby Stein, Edward Borins, Carol Tyroler, and Robin Roffer,
that this evening’s in-person service could happen at all. These people have
exemplified what is now so essential in our community – listening and learning,
compassion and compromise. These members heard all the voices in the community
and responded appropriately. We owe them a debt of thanks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This
pandemic has been physically and psychologically exhausting for most, if not
all, of us. We were confronted with immediate traumas – the sudden loss of
physical presence of friends and family, the debilitating feeling of isolation,
the realization of the precariousness of life. In time, other traumas came to
us – the loss of trust of unknown others leading to the fear of the stranger,
and even the shock of discovering that the social contract is less robust than
we may have hoped and that some people will bend or break rules for their own
benefit while ignoring the potential risk to others. Perhaps when we think of
Ezra 3 and the people who wail at the loss of once was, we can empathize, and we
need to be especially careful over the coming months to help each other come to
terms with the trauma of the last 65 weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And
yet, we have remained connected. Many members have said that they have never
felt so connected to our community as in the last year. Ecclesiastes says (3:4)
there is a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to
dance. It turns out that those are not differing times, but the same time, and
that time is now. As much as we pay attention to the trauma of the last year,
so, too, we have so much to celebrate from the past year. We celebrate the
staff and volunteers of our community who have just kept going despite
everything thrown at them, drawing on extraordinary reserves of energy,
willpower and love to keep our community members connected. We ran online Torah
breakfasts, book studies, and two Tikkunei Leil Shavuot, both of which ran long
into the evening despite us all being <i>oyzgezoomt</i>. We created online
services and meditation sessions, online (and, in the most urgent of cases,
in-person) pastoral visits. The Preschool, the Religious School and the Youth
Group continued. We ran online events, including speakers from all around the
world. We spent almost every evening one week in a virtual tour of Israel. We
organized It Takes A Village to connect younger and older members of our
community and to support kids through the long summer. We held weekly online
Havdalah services. We sent out a reflection on a mishnah from Pirke Avot every
day for months. We started the Pre-Shabbat messages on YouTube. We ran a Racial
Justice Circle and connected with other events around the world that challenged
and empowered us. Our members created stunning liturgy for the unique High Holy
Day services and for our Pesach S’darim, which were watched by hundreds more people
than ever before. We maintained a presence in the Interfaith Leadership
Alliance, helping create memorials for New Mexicans who had died from the pandemic.
We joined with the Jewish Federation in their cross-communal rituals for Yom
HaShoah and Yom Ha’atzma’ut. We restarted the Conversion Course, now attended
by more people than in the last seven years at least. We brought in more new
members. We even had a New Member Shabbat that was catered in the new members’
homes. We held the community’s first totally online bar mitzvah ceremony. We
finished an extraordinary Strategic Plan and started implementing it by
creating new committees and by running a hiring process which has resulted in
our hiring of the wonderful Cantor Lianna Mendelson as our new Cantor-Educator.
We have done all this and so, so much more. And throughout these last 65 weeks,
whenever one of us faltered from exhaustion or sickness, someone else from the
community would step up instantly. Aaron Wolf and Fred Milder stepped in to
lead services, Scott Nadler, Dana Densmore, Ziva Gunther and Rachel Kowarski led
Torah study, Ellen Zieselman stepped in to lead the Religious School, Meredith
Brown stepped in to lead the B’nei Mitzvah program. Countless members provided
meals to those in need, especially to those suffering from short- and long-term
effects of COVID-19. These are some of the many examples of communal love and
support that we have seen repeatedly throughout this pandemic. What we have
learned since March of 2020 is that a pandemic is like an amplifier, bringing
out everything that is truly within, so angry people became angrier but loving
people became more loving. Our Caring Congregation therefore became more
Caring. Our supportive extended family became even more supportive. We were
tested hard by this pandemic, but we did not crack… if anything, we became stronger
and even more extraordinary. Tonight, we celebrate the strength of our
community to endure, and we commit ourselves to taking care of everyone in our
community in the coming weeks and months as well.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">So,
whether or not everyone in our community could join us physically today, our
being able to reopen services on-site is miraculous. When we give praise and
thanks today, we do so not just for the wonder of our community, but also for
the wonder of the healthcare professionals and all the essential workers who
have sustained us and brought us to this occasion. We give thanks for the
technology that has enabled us to stay connected through this time, and we excuse
the technical glitches as moments of normalcy in a sea of miracles. We give
thanks to the staff in our community, those who started the pandemic with us and
who are no longer working with us, as well as those who are still with us. Their
dedication to this community has been extraordinary. We also give thanks to
those who have supported the staff of the Temple – the volunteers, Board
members, and Exec members who have not only held us through this most extraordinary
time but who have helped to develop our community at the same time. One of those
people I must single out in particular – our Temple President Michelle
LaFlamme-Childs - who has been a rock of support, a calming voice, an empowering
leader, a confidante and friend. The members of our community will never know
how much Michelle has done over the last year for us all, but I promise you it
has been absolutely mind-blowing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Speaking
personally, there were times in the last six months in particular when the
burden of this pandemic was too great, when the weight of the community combined
with personal challenges was too much. It was during those times that, like
Aaron and Hur in the book of Exodus (17:12), I was supported the most by this
loving, extended family of Temple Beth Shalom, the rock of stability and love
upon which I could rest and be refreshed. The members of this community held my
arms up high when I did not know where to find the strength to do so. As we
write the history of our Temple, I truly hope that this chapter is remembered
as one of connection, of support and of love because that has certainly been my
experience of it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Atem
Nitzavim Hayom Kulchem</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> – You who stand here with us today,
either physically in our Sanctuary or with us online – you now look out at a
land flowing with milk and honey… you now see in front of you a time of
opportunity and reconnection. This is the moment – “this is the hour of change.”
(q. Leah Goldberg, p.31, Mishkan T’fillah). This is the moment of celebrating
how lucky we are, to be members of our wonderful community at this unique time
in history. This is also the moment that makes demands of us, to reach out, to
care for those still in need in our community. It is, therefore, a moment of
celebration and of simultaneous responsibility. It is an awesome moment and it
is a moment that I know we will embrace.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For
over a year, we have walked through the valley of the shadow of death (Ps. 23:4)
and God and community have been with us. May God continue to guide our steps forward,
guide our community forward. May God comfort us as we confront the trauma of
exile, inspire us to reach out to take care of those not here with us today,
and be with us as we celebrate our extraordinary return to our extraordinary community,
and let us say, Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-63820009240973964792021-06-11T07:48:00.006-07:002021-06-11T07:48:59.175-07:00Divine Authority and Tyranny (Korach 2021)<p><span style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday, an
annular eclipse helps those who have lost track of the Hebrew date, because
eclipses always happen on a new moon. So, how might we connect the new moon
with Korach, the apparently rebellious priest after whom this week’s Torah
portion in named. The answer is in the Mishnah of Rosh Hashanah (2:8-9). In
order to declare the new moon, and thus the new month, witnesses needed to
appear before the court. In this Mishnah, two witnesses came to the Rabbinic
court at Yavneh and said that they saw the moon in the east on the morning of
the 29</span><sup style="text-align: justify;">th</sup><span style="text-align: justify;"> and they saw it in the west in the evening. Rabbi Yochanan
ben Nuri said that they were false witnesses. However, Rabban Gamaliel accepted
their testimony, assuming that they had just made a mistake with their morning
sighting. Two more witnesses came along and gave a differing testimony – that
they saw the moon in its proper time. However, the moon did not appear to the
Court as predicted but Rabban Gamaliel nonetheless accepted their testimony.
Rabbi Dosa ben Harkinas said that they were false witnesses. He asked, “How can
they testify that a woman has given birth when, on the very next day, her
stomach is still up there between her teeth?” In other words, how can we say
there’s a new moon when no-one can see the new moon? Rabbi Joshua said to him,
“I can see your position.” In other words, Rabban Gamaliel, the head of the
court, has accepted the testimony of the witnesses who, it turns out, are false
witnesses. Rabbi Joshua agrees with Rabbi Dosa ben Harkinas who challenges how
the court – specifically Rabban Gamaliel – came to accept false testimony. So,
then something fascinating happens. Rabban Gamaliel turns to Rabbi Joshua and
says, “I decree that you come to me with your staff and purse on the Day of
Atonement which is determined in accordance with your counting.” Rabbi Dosa ben
Harkinas has provided a challenge but instead of answering that challenge,
Rabbi Joshua has furthered it, essentially starting a group of people who have challenged
Rabban Gamaliel’s authority. So Rabban Gamaliel’s response is to tell Rabbi
Joshua that if he counts the calendar differently, he should demonstrate his apparent
rebellion publicly. Is it rebellion, though? Yes, Rabbi Joshua is questioning
how Rabban Gamaliel’s method for examining witnesses, but is it an innocent
query or is it open mockery of the leader of the court? It could be read both
ways. Rabban Gamaliel takes it as publicly questioning his authority, so he
reacts by showing strict authority. Whether it was intended to be rebellious or
not, Rabban Gamaliel’s response turns it into a rebellion that must be ended.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Rabbi Akiva
finds Rabbi Joshua greatly troubled and explains that everything that Rabban
Gamaliel has done is valid because Torah says “These are the set feasts of the
Eternal… which you shall proclaim” (Lev. 23:4). Whether they are in their
proper time or not, the key is that God has given authority to the Rabbis to
proclaim the calendar. Akiva, ever the peace-maker, then went to Rabbi Dosa ben
Harkinas and said, “If we’re going to take issue with the court of Rabban
Gamaliel, we have to take issue with every single court which has come into
being since the time of Moses to the present day.” He quotes the book of Exodus
which talks of “Moses, Aaron, Nadav and Avihu and seventy of the elders of
Israel…” (Ex. 24:9) “Why,” he asks, “have the names of the elders not been
given? To teach that every group of three elders who came into being as a court
of Israel are equivalent to the court of Moses himself.” We assume that Rabbi
Dosa ben Harkinas is calmed and accepts the authority of Rabban Gamaliel to
determine the dates of the festivals because when the court decrees them, that’s
when they are, even if the calendar doesn’t match totally with what is in the
sky.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Next we read
that Rabbi Joshua took his staff with his purse in his hand and went to Yavneh,
to Rabban Gamaliel, on the Day of Atonement according to his counting. In response,
Rabban Gamaliel says to him, “Peace, my master and disciple – my master in
wisdom and my disciple in accepting my rulings.” What Rabban Gamaliel saw as a
rebellion has now been contained peacefully.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">In our Torah
portion, Korach challenges Moses, God’s emissary, the man who speaks with God,
the man who literally glows with the Divine Presence. His challenge isn’t one
of subjective rulings – is it the new moon or not – but a challenge of
authority. Korach says that Moses takes on too much because <i>all</i> the
people are holy, not just Moses. Essentially, he’s saying that Moses is no
better than anyone else. That, of course, stands in complete contradiction with
the word of God, since God clearly states at Sinai that only Moses can come up
the mountain and that anyone who even touches the mountain shall die. God also
says that no-one can see God’s face and live but God nonetheless lets Moses see
God’s back, a privilege not granted to any other Israelite. So Korach’s
challenge is one against not just Moses’ authority but actually against the
whole structure of the Jewish community. Judaism sets up a community which has
specialists – the priests were the specialists in sacrifice and the Rabbis are
specialists in deciding halakhah, Jewish law. Rabban Gamaliel is the supreme
specialist in the court, so questioning his decision-making ability is
essentially like questioning God. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">This, I believe,
is what leads to the perceived rebellion – divine authority that supports human
decision-making is inherently dangerous, since human beings are flawed. It is
clear that Rabban Gamaliel made a mistake with the witnesses but the system that
was established gave divine approval to his mistake. It made the incorrect
correct. That’s very difficult for those who want a court with no mistakes,
like Rabbi Joshua, who was clearly right to ask his question about the
correctness of the decision. It’s not rebellion to question a leader’s terrible
decision, and to ask how that can be enshrined in law. What’s fascinating is
what else happens – after Rabban Gamaliel seemingly humiliates Rabbi Joshua with
the demand regarding the date of Yom Kippur, their colleagues are so shocked by
Rabban Gamaliel’s behavior that he is ousted as the head of the court! Although
he is later returned to his post once he and Rabbi Joshua are reconciled, there
continues to be a power-sharing agreement moving forward.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">When people believe
that they act on divine authority, their leadership can easily slip into tyranny.
Nonsense laws are backed up with humiliation aimed at anyone who dares to
disagree. In some sense, we see this same phenomenon with Korach as represented
in Midrash. For example, when Moses tells the people that God instructs them to
wear a blue tassel on their clothing so that it catches one’s eye and we
remember God’s commandments, Korach asks what to do if their entire garment is
blue? The Rabbis suggest that Korach asks these questions because he’s a
trouble-maker, but I cannot see him that way. I believe that Korach sees divine
authority being directed through one man, who is clearly very flawed, and who
therefore tests the problematic system. It’s not that Korach rebels against God
– he rebels against Moses because he is the only arbiter of divine authority. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">The end of the
Korach story is humiliation. Talmud (Bava Batra 74a) says that there is a spot that
Rabbi bar bar Hana visited where he heard Korach cry up from the ground the
words “Moses and his Torah are true, and we are liars.” That’s not fair. God
tells the Israelites to be holy (Lev. 19:1) and Korach says that all the people
are holy. That’s not a liar. He says that Moses has taken on too much, which is
exactly what Moses’ father-in-law Jethro said back in Exodus 18(:14). Korach
says that God is in the midst of the people. Well, that one’s a stretch – God is
clearly centered around the Tabernacle. But once the Second Temple is built and
then destroyed many hundreds of years later, the Rabbis end up saying
essentially the same thing as Korach does in our Torah portion – that God is
not focused on one specific location. If anything, then, Korach is a visionary.
But he is humiliated just as Rabbi Joshua is humiliated, because any system
that claims divine authority can easily tend towards terror and violence
against anyone who disagrees with it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Moses was flawed
and Rabban Gamaliel was flawed. Moses ends his life without being able to cross
into the Jordan because of his failure. Rabban Gamaliel ends up in a
power-sharing arrangement because of his failure. That, I believe, is a
wonderful lessons for all leaders – that if you think you came to this position
because you’re perfect, you will end up failing. And this can, indeed, be a
lesson for everyone – to hear those who would disagree with us without accusing
them, to learn from their questions about how we may be wrong, to embrace
humility, to be less certain of ourselves. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some of us that’s more of a challenge than
for others. But a religious community that tries to encounter God is not the
same as God – we’re not perfect and that’s the point. We learn from our flaws
instead of pretending that they don’t exist.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">So, may God be
with us as we embrace our imperfection, as we celebrate the opportunity to
learn and grow from our interaction with others. May we embrace being
questioned and challenged. And may we all question and challenge each other
with love and respect, and let us say, Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-17608036189669492442021-06-04T13:41:00.005-07:002021-06-04T13:41:43.018-07:00 Shelach Lecha Sermon 2021 - At the Border of Change<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Earlier this morning, I led a service from the Bimah
in our Sanctuary. It was the first time I had led a Shabbat service there in a
year. The last time I did so, it was to a totally empty Sanctuary. I knew that
many members were watching online, but the Sanctuary itself was totally empty
and it was an extremely lonely experience. I returned to the empty Sanctuary
for the High Holy Days because the internet connection at our home wasn’t
reliable enough. Rosh Hashanah, Kol Nidre and all the way through Yom Kippur I led
services to a totally empty Sanctuary. There were moments in those services
when I sang and my voice was the only sound in the entire room, and it was
incredibly moving for me personally to fill a sacred space with my own voice.
There was an immediacy between me and God that I have only felt a few times
before in my life. At the end of the Yom Kippur services, once the Ne’ilah
service finished, once we had wished </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">shanah tovah</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> to everyone, once I
ended the online streaming and was left alone in the Sanctuary, though, I
started crying. It wasn’t just due to exhaustion or stress, although there was
certainly much of that at that time. It was fundamentally because of the loss
of essential human interaction during a time when human interaction is so
necessary. Yes, having my rendition of </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">sh’ma koleinu </i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">fill the Sanctuary
was powerful, but can never be as fulfilling as leading a service with a community.
A one-to-one connection, a moment of I-Thou in our Sanctuary between God and me
is something to be treasured, but it doesn’t compare to sharing </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">sh’ma</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> in
a minyan, because we don’t celebrate festivals alone. The Jewish community experiences
time communally, and observes special moments in that time – Shabbat and the
festivals – communally.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For just over a year, we’ve been streaming services on
Zoom which allowed members to see me and have some sense of shared festival
experience, although I could not see them because I had to focus on the slides.
Over the last year, leading Shabbat services went for me from a shared journey
to a weekly presentation of Jewish spirituality, enabling others to experience
something that I could not. My spiritual role shifted from guide to presenter,
from spiritual artist to professional sacred space holder, from companion to
enabler. That’s why I genuinely want to return to in-person services so that we
can share something spiritual together once again. At the same time, though, I’m
nervous. I’ve got so used to leading services in my slippers from the comfort
of my couch or my study that the transition to a new spirituality is
nerve-wracking. For this morning’s Preschool Shabbat, I chose to force myself
across that boundary, which was especially helpful as a taster of things to
come since in two weeks’ time, we open up in-person Shabbat services for those
who want to return physically. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">With that in mind, I want to share my experience of
Preschool Shabbat this morning. The first thing that struck me was when one of
the older kids walked into the Sanctuary and said, “Rabbi Neil, I haven’t seen
you in a long time.” I felt seen and so valued and had forgotten how wonderful it
feels to be seen by members of a loving community.From the get-go, I was amazed
that I remembered all of my shtick – all of my jokes and songs that I do with
them – even though I haven’t uttered them for a very long time. When we lit the
Shabbat candles, my voice broke a little and I had to hold back tears because we
sang the brachah together and we were engaging in Jewish ritual together when
for so long for me it has been a solo performance. I didn’t realize how much it
had hurt my soul to not hear others praying along with me. When it came time
for challah, I took a piece and tucked it into my mouth under my mask but the
kids had to wait until lunch to have theirs. Suddenly, that communal act of
breaking bread together not being able to happen reminded me that we are still
in a pandemic and that coming back to services will feel profoundly different. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once the Preschool kids left the Sanctuary I had a
momentary pause. I was in shock. It was nice but it felt a little odd. It was
returning to the old but in a new way. It was a return, but only partially. It
was communal prayer for the first time in a year, which felt transformative,
inclusive, shared, communal, and supportive, but it was also distanced,
changed, and limited. I had finally experienced the wonderful but disjointed reality
of an in-person pandemic prayer service. What I needed, and what I’m really
going to start working on over the next two weeks, was a transition ritual, a
ritual of return. I mentioned this a few weeks ago, but now it has become even
more relevant. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As I started to consider this ritual, I remembered
this week’s Torah portion, Sh’lach L’cha. In it, the Israelites send twelve
spies into the land of Canaan, the land of milk and honey, the land that was
promised to them by God, and yet they are too terrified to move forward. The
challenges facing them overwhelm them psychically. Their report back to the
people is called “evil” by the Torah, because it strikes fear into the people
and they yearn to go back to Egypt, to the worst of places, simply because it
was familiar. The entire people become demoralized by the account. In response,
God tells Moses that the entire people will be wiped out and will start again
with Moses, but Moses argues that that cannot happen. He gets it. It’s not
about the community leader. It’s about the people, some of whom are ready to go
into the land and some of whom are not. In the end, most of them are banned from
entering because of that hesitation when the time was right. Immediately
regretting missing their window of opportunity, they rush to make amends and
pour into the land where they are soundly defeated by the inhabitants because
they’re not prepared.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This Torah portion helps me prepare the ritual of
return in a few ways. It needs to acknowledge fear of change, fear of personal
harm, trepidation of crossing the threshold, that some people will feel. It
needs to hold those who remain on one side of the border while others cross
over. It needs to acknowledge that it is not good for a prayer leader and the
prayer community to be physically separated. It needs to acknowledge the
transition of the prayer leader from nebbish with a Powerpoint presentation back
to emissary of communal prayer. It needs to acknowledge a physical and psychological
divide that was forced upon our community and that also needs to celebrate that
it is slowly going away.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Like the Israelites in this week’s Torah portion, we
are near the border of a transformative change. We won’t rush in blindly but we’ll
also not yearn to go back to the worst out of fear of change. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Together, we will find a balance. May God help
us as we search for that balance, together, as a community, and let us say,
Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-58441256355555874602021-05-14T12:09:00.004-07:002021-05-14T12:09:51.612-07:00Praying and Working for Peace in Jerusalem, May 14th 2021<p> <span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As far as I have learned, in 1875, Rabbi Avraham
Ashkenazi and Rabbi Meir Auerbach acquired some land from Arab sellers. In 1946, shortly before Israel’s War of
Independence, two Jewish non-governmental organizations moved to register the
deed with authorities in what was then British Mandatory Palestine. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In 1982, the Palestinian residents
of the property – including the parents and grandparents of some of the current
occupants – signed an agreement confirming that the Israeli NGOs were the
rightful owners. In the early 2000s, these two Israeli non-profits sold the
land to the <i>Nahalat Shimon </i>organization. The Palestinians
occupying the dwelling were nevertheless allowed to continue living there and
enjoyed “Protected Residents” status. However, by law, the tenants were
required to pay rent to Nahalat Shimon. It was only after the Palestinian
residents refused to do that, and instead illegally expanded the property and
rented out spaces to third parties, that Nahalat Shimon initiated eviction
proceedings. Before going to court, the Jewish owners of the property and the
Palestinian residents almost came to an out-of-court settlement but the
Palestinian Authority threatened the Palestinian residents with violence if
they agreed to a compromise. It therefore became an intractable legal issue of
squatters, and had to go to court.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">You may not have heard of this. Instead, you made have
recently heard from Reuters that</span><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"> “Jewish settlers backed by an Israeli court have
taken over some homes” in Sheikh Jarrah, or may have seen </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://apnews.com/article/middle-east-jerusalem-israel-c79cd00dc78156f0276dc11e66b3cf42" target="_blank"><em><span style="color: windowtext; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Associated Press</span></em></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"> reports
that “dozens of Palestinians are fighting attempts by Israeli settlers to evict
them from their homes.” You would not be alone. What is actually a
landlord/squatter issue that only came to court because of pressure from the
Palestinian Authority for the Palestinian residents not to cave to Israelis has
become a narrative of Jewish settlers stealing Palestinians homes. Such a
claim, which I believe is demonstrably false in this case, doesn’t arise from a
vacuum, though. Many American Liberals, good people who are honest about their
own country’s history of ethnic cleansing and systemic state-sanctioned racist
violence, view everything in the rest of the world in similar terms. World
history is viewed through the lens of American history, which is sometimes a
useful way to look at things but is sometimes reductive and unhelpful because
in so doing, it misses the uniqueness of the non-American experience. Not all of
human history is American history expressed in differing locations. I am
starting to think that guilt experienced by contemporary Americans for
profiting off a society that was created through the violent oppression of
indigenous people is then transferred to Israel, the only other state with
which such people have a personal connection. Israel is then condemned in the
strongest possible terms for any acts of violence against Palestinians, while
Palestinian violence is excused as being understandable or even justified –
Palestinians viewed like Native Americans are then seen as justifiably
resisting white colonialist expansion. Such a comparison is deeply problematic
that I believe reveals an American experience totally removed from life on the
ground in the Middle East. I appreciate that this opening analysis of liberal Jewish
American responses to the current crisis is challenging, but when such people,
whom I believe are absolutely well-intentioned and good people, talk and
organize 100 times more about human rights issues in Israel/Palestine than they
do about human rights issues in the whole of the rest of the world combined, and
when they demonize Israel using language that they would never consider using
for any other country in the world, including those which commit far worse
human rights abuses, I think it’s important to explore why. The Rohingya crisis
which started in late 2017, in which more than 740,000 Muslims have fled from
Myanmar to Bangladesh to escape the military’s demonstrable ethnic cleansing,
and which still continues today, American liberal Jews are essentially silent
about that. Countless human rights abuses particularly towards women in Saudi Arabia
have occurred for as long as I can remember but nobody speaks about them
perhaps because to do so might threaten the oil supply that powers American
society. China’s brutal oppression of over thirteen million Uyghurs that we all
know is ongoing produces hardly an objection from the American Jewish community,
perhaps so that we can all enjoy cheap Chinese products. In Kurdistan, the
rights of millions of people have been taken away, facing indiscriminate arrest
from Iraqi authorities. So why is it that American Jews are so silent when tens
of millions of Muslims worldwide are oppressed, and focus only on the suffering
of Muslims living in Gaza and the West Bank in a situation that is far, far
more complex and nuanced than any of those I just mentioned? What I’m not
saying, by the way, is that there aren’t serious human rights issues in Israel
- of course there are. Israeli society is demonstrably inequitable towards
non-Jews, particularly Arabs. Despite the fact that this particular instance in
Sheikh Jarrar is not about settlers evicting Palestinians from their homes,
last year Israel reached its highest rate of home demolition in four years,
with over 560 Palestinian homes destroyed, displacing over 750 people. Plans
for the annexation of the West Bank were openly advanced by Bibi Netanyahu. In
response to Hamas’ clear war crime of firing 187 unguided rockets that targeted
Israeli civilians last year, as well as their campaign of launching incendiary
balloons, Israel once again limited food and medicine going into Gaza, blocked
access to Gaza’s territorial waters for Palestinian fishermen, and slashed fuel
imports to Gaza’s power plant, in an unequivocally immoral form of collective punishment.
So, I’m not saying that it’s inappropriate for people to comment on human
rights issues in Israel, but I do believe that regimes that violently oppress
their minorities all over the world must love the fact that the world community
obsesses about human rights issues in Israel and hardly pays attention to it in
other oppressive countries, even ones that demonstrably engage in active
campaigns of genocide. </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">And it’s not just the focus that is problematic to
me, it’s the vitriolic language used about Israel as well. I’ve heard all too
often this week, including from Jews, that Israel is a colonial project that is
the root cause of Palestinian suffering, by being not only an aggressive militaristic
nation, but a genocidal, deliberately child-murdering, undemocratic, racist,
apartheid state that is either largely or totally responsible for the violence
in the Middle East, and furthermore I’ve heard it repeatedly said that
indiscriminate violence towards Israeli civilians – our fellow Jews - from
rocket attacks to terror bombings even to full-blown historic invasions, is
justified or at least understandable due to that narrative about Israel. As
disturbing as that narrative (which I am confident I could refute every single
point) may be, what is also so upsetting for me is the outrageous aggression
that regularly accompanies that narrative. I have been told that I challenge
that false narrative of Israel not because of facts but because of my white,
male Ashkenazi privilege, or because I want to keep conservative Temple donors,
or because I’m a coward too afraid to be a real leader. After I explained to
someone in a very left-wing social media group how Jordan, other Arab nations
and how the Palestinian Authority and Hamas are also the cause of so much
Palestinian pain, I was told to “F*** off with that colonialist bullshit.”
People in that very left-wing group then asked if “Zionists and genocide
deniers” like me could be permanently banned from the group. I got in touch
with the admin of the group, who is Jewish, and asked if I would be banned. He
said that Zionists are not all banned, but decisions are made on a case-by-case
basis.</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">Here are my problems with all of this. Firstly,
nothing is achieved by reductive soundbites that work well in tweets and social
media posts that frame deeply entrenched and complicated political situations
as one side good, one side bad, or one’s sides violence is abhorrent while the
other’s is understandable. I would go further and say that not only is nothing
achieved by such statements, but the dialogue that could be used to help bring
about peace and understanding is muddied by such simplifications. Such
statements don’t work towards peace, they just seem to reveal the speaker’s
righteous indignation in the face of a situation far more complex than they want
to accept. Secondly, shutting down nuance, deliberately ignoring facts that
challenge the overly simplistic narrative, shouting down or trying to humiliate
or shame anyone who dares to disagree with the prevailing false narrative about
Israel that is so popular in liberal circles… all of those things turn people away
from that liberal narrative and make them resent liberalism. I posted one
article on Facebook and a colleague in England said that even though he agreed
with it, he was too scared to post it. That is not a good look for liberal
discourse. </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">This week I have learned more about my fellow Jews
than I have about the conflict between Israel and Hamas – and I say it that way
deliberately because this is not a conflict between Israelis and Palestinians,
despite so many people saying it is. Israel is a deeply flawed country, an
absolute beacon of democracy and human rights in the Middle East compared to
every nation around it, but yet still with a long, long way to go before it is an
equitable and totally moral country….. very much like America has a long, long
way to go before it is an equitable and totally moral country. Seeing how many
Jews conflate Hamas’ violence with Palestinian violence has been disturbing. Hamas,
to be clear, is a rabidly antisemitic genocidal terror group whose charter
includes the statement that “there is no solution for the Palestinian question
except through Jihad” and that “initiatives, proposals and international
conferences are all a waste of time and vain endeavors.” Hamas will never want
peace. It only wants Palestine from the river to the sea, and there is only one
way to achieve that. The fact that I have seen that vision now repeated in
liberal circles this week shows how normalized Hamas’ genocidal plans have
become in so much liberal discourse. The Hamas Charter also says that, and I
quote, the Jews “were behind the French Revolution, the Communist revolution
and most of the revolutions we heard and hear about, here and there. With their
money they formed secret societies, such as Freemasons, Rotary Clubs, the Lions
and others in different parts of the world for the purpose of sabotaging
societies and achieving Zionist interests. With their money they were able to
control imperialistic countries and instigate them to colonize many countries
in order to enable them to exploit their resources and spread corruption
there….They were behind World War I, when they were able to destroy the Islamic
Caliphate, making financial gains and controlling resources. They obtained the
Balfour Declaration and formed the League of Nations through which they could
rule the world.” It even says, and think just how disturbing this is, that the
Jews were “behind World War II, through which they made huge financial gains by
trading in armaments, and paved the way for the establishment of their state.”
That is Israel’s neighbor, who seized control of Gaza and who have ruled it
with an iron first ever since, murdering anyone who dares to disagree with them
or even anyone whom they suspect may disagree with them, using their people as
human shields and poisoning the minds of their children with disturbing
anti-semitic propaganda. That is why I am so troubled when so many liberal Jews
condemn Israel far more than they do Hamas. I’m not saying that this current
conflict is totally Hamas’ fault, either, though. As far as I have learned, this
most recent conflict was not the result of a specific act of Israeli
aggression, but a combination of at least 7 differing factors:</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">1) The incompetence of an underfunded and unguided
Israeli police force who have been left to fend for themselves by the
essentially moribund Israeli government for years, and therefore lacking any
strategies or human resources to respond to anti-Israel protests, to stopping violence
between Israelis and Arabs, as well as lacking any sense of a PR disaster when
arresting Hamas extremists engaging in riotous protests from within one of the
most famous mosques in the world,</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">2) The need for the Palestinian Authority to
attach an Israeli-oppressor narrative to a simple tenancy dispute to make
themselves relevant again in the face of both the Abraham Accords which
demonstrated that the rest of the world, particularly the Arab nations, are fed
up waiting for the Palestinians to work towards peace, and also in the face of the
Palestinian Authority’s declining popularity amongst Palestinians that even led
to Mahmoud Abbas cancelling an election that he thought he might lose,</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">3) Iran once again testing the new American President
through its puppet organizations like Hamas, as they have done a number of
times across the region for the last few months,</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">4) Hamas seeing that the Ra’am party was about to
join the majority in the Knesset for the first time ever and knowing that the
best way to stop such enormous progress that demonstrates that violence isn’t
the only route to Palestinian liberation is to cause Israelis to distrust Palestinians
again, leading Hamas to stoke up violent protests, including the one in the
Al-Aqsa mosque, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">5) The rise of Israeli ultranationalism that has its
roots in the ever-increasing poverty in some areas of Israel and which has been
widely tolerated by right-wing politicians for years for their own political
benefit, a racist, violent nationalism which seizes on every act of Palestinian
violence against Israelis, from rocket attacks to attacks on settlers or
civilians, as proof of Palestinian intent to destroy their people.</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">6) The radicalization of many Palestinians by
Hamas in the face of an Israeli state which constantly reminds those Palestinians
that the law does not treat them equally.</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">7) The total lack of an Israeli national strategy
to work towards peace caused both by repeated elections leading to internal
political deadlock, and also caused by a lack of intention in creating such a
national strategy due to Israel having no-one to speak to for peace as a result
of the deep unpopularity of the Palestinian Authority and the clear genocidal
intent of Hamas.</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">There are, of course, many more factors, but my
point is that we cannot work for peace just by pointing fingers at one side, we
cannot work for peace by seeing every international incident through the lens
of American history, and we definitely cannot work for peace by trying to silence
or shame those who try to reveal the nuance of every situation in order to try
to find the unique solutions to that unique situation. </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">More than that, though, a time of conflict such as
this is not a time to pick sides, to condemn, to hunker down in entrenched
views, or to become intellectual extremists. Screaming from afar “This is your
fault” while people die isn’t a humanitarian response and it isn’t going to
change anything. Tikkun Olam is not found through blame. A time of conflict
like this is a time to be compassionate to the victims on all sides. Magen
David Adom is the only emergency medical service in the region that treats both
wounded Israelis and wounded Palestinians. If you really want to help this
situation right now, if you genuinely want to be an agent for positive change
in people’s lives, you could actively support them. That would be infinitely
more helpful than expressions of internet rage.</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">More than that, there are specific people and
specific groups in the region on both sides who benefit from Israeli/Palestinian
division. The more we take sides, the more they succeed. So, we must do
everything in our power to stop responding with blame and instead to start
reaching out to the overwhelming majority of people in the region who just want
peace. So, for example, yesterday hundreds of Jews and Arabs gathered on a
bridge outside Abu Gosh, a town on the Jerusalem-Tel Aviv highway, to show
cooperation and shared humanity. I believe that such actions are infinitely
more helpful than ranting on social media about who is to blame. Crises such as
these are times when we should be actively supporting organizations that bring
people together, like Creativity for Peace or the Aravah Institute. Israelis
are on the whole good people and Palestinians are on the whole good people. The
overwhelming majority of them want a two-state solution. Despite the aggression
and intransigence of their leaders, most Israelis and Arabs get on very well
with each other. But that’s not a narrative that keeps people tuning into news
stations, so it’s not one that is regularly shared. But I believe that
especially during times of conflict, that should be our narrative. We should be
highlighting stories of cooperation. If we are to condemn, we should condemn
all who resort to violence on all sides. We should never excuse violence, we
should never justify violence, and we should not be defined by violence. We
should look forward to a time when all who cause loss of life shall beat their
swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-hooks (Is. 2:4). We should
pray for the peace of Jerusalem - a just, equitable, realistic peace that
addresses pain on all sides, so that all who love Jerusalem be secure. We
should pray for peace within her walls, for the sake of all people and for the
sake of the house of God. (Ps. 122:6-9). We should pray that God Who creates
peace in the highest brings down peace upon us and upon all Israel. And we
should accompany our prayers with actions that bring peace to all. May God
guide us in our endeavors, and help us to work toward a just and long-lasting
peace, and let us say, Amen.</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-61298364018438266622021-04-23T13:22:00.003-07:002021-04-23T18:38:25.495-07:00Acharei Mot – Kedoshim 2021 – Encounter at the Boundary of Pardes<div style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"> <span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">In our double-portion of Acharei Mot – Kedoshim this
week, God says to Moses (Lev. 16:2) “Speak to your brother Aaron, that he
should not come at all times into the Holy within the dividing curtain, in
front of the cover that is upon the ark, so that he should not die, for I
appear over the ark cover in a cloud.</span><span style="text-align: justify;">” God places a limit on access to
the Divine. This isn’t the first time that God has done so – back in Exodus 19,
God warned Moses to erect a boundary around Mount Sinai so that the people do
not touch it and die. As I spoke about last week, this is very much because of
the danger of closeness with God. That danger is not just expressed in Torah but
even in Rabbinic literature (Tosefta </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Hagigah</i><span style="text-align: justify;"> 2:2, </span><span style="text-align: justify;">Bavli </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Hagigah </i><span style="text-align: justify;">14b, Yerushalmi
</span><i style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moed" title="Moed"><span style="color: black; text-decoration-line: none;">Hagigah</span></a></i><span style="text-align: justify;"> 9:1), such as the following short story
about <i>pardes</i> – Paradise:</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">Four entered <i>pardes</i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> — </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simeon_ben_Azzai" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Simeon ben Azzai"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Ben Azzai</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">, </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simon_ben_Zoma" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Simon ben Zoma"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Ben Zoma</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">, </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisha_ben_Abuyah" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Elisha ben Abuyah"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Elisha ben Abuyah</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">, and </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbi_Akiva" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Rabbi Akiva"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Rabbi Akiva</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">. One looked and died; one looked and went mad; </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisha_ben_Abuyah" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Elisha ben Abuyah"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Elisha ben Abuyah</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> looked and apostatized; Akiva entered in
peace and departed in peace. <br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /></span></span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">This isn’t a story of four untrained Jews – these are
four Rabbis who seem to peer into the unknown, who apparently try to peel back
the mystical coverings protecting us from Divine danger. Of the four, three of
them suffer – one dies, one goes mad and one becomes a heretic. Only Rabbi
Akiva is untouched. It’s a terrifying narrative. It seems to be saying that the
closer one draws to Divinity, the more likely one is to be harmed.<br /> </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">So, what does that mean for the rest of us, for those
of us who are not Akivas? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we not get
the Premium Divinity service – do we only get access to God-lite? And why are
they even trying to plumb the Divine depths when God is very clear in Exodus (33:18)
that “no one may see Me and live”?<br /></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">At first glance, it may seem that this story is
merely trying to elevate Akiva to the level of Moses, or perhaps even above it,
thereby justifying Rabbinic interpretation of the Revelation originally given
to Moses. Indeed, this isn’t the only text to do so – in Tractate Menachot
(29b) in Talmud, for example, Moses asks God why letters in Torah need crowns
and God explains that Akiva will arise in the future to explain laws upon laws
just on those ornaments alone. Akiva can teach more from the law than Moses himself!
Moses dares not look at the fullness of God, whereas Akiva has a different experience.
Moses’ experience is far more passive – he hides in a cleft in a rock and God’s
glory passes by, whereas Akiva enters and departs Paradise. Of course, God and
Paradise are not the same thing, and it would be problematic were we to
conflate the two. However, Rashi says specifically that Ben Azzai dies in this
story because he gazes at the Presence of God, which Moses was warned not to
do. So, Pardes is a place where one might experience the fullness of God,
meaning that Akiva’s entry into it is extraordinary.<br /></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">What is Pardes? It’s a Persian loan-word meaning “orchard,”
and is generally taken to mean Paradise. Rabbinic literature also plays on it
as an acrostic, though, to represent the four differing ways of reading a text –
P’shat (literally), Remez (allegorically), Drash (metaphorically), Sod (mystically).
Pardes is all of Jewish interpretation. To truly see Pardes, one sees how to
interpret everything. No wonder Ben Zoma goes mad! That’s too much knowledge
for one person. And no wonder Elisha ben Abuya becomes an apostate, because the
more one learns, the more one single misinterpretation can cascade down into a
totally skewed mindset.<br /> </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">With all this in mind, we need to reread our story
to realize an important difference between the three Rabbis who suffer and
Akiva….<br /> </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">Four entered <i>pardes</i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> — </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simeon_ben_Azzai" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Simeon ben Azzai"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Ben Azzai</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">, </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simon_ben_Zoma" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Simon ben Zoma"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Ben Zoma</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">, </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisha_ben_Abuyah" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Elisha ben Abuyah"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Elisha ben Abuyah</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">, and </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbi_Akiva" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Rabbi Akiva"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Rabbi Akiva</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">. One looked and died; one looked and went mad; </span></span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisha_ben_Abuyah" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" title="Elisha ben Abuyah"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Elisha ben Abuyah</span></a><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> looked and apostatized; Akiva entered in
peace and departed in peace.<br /></span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma and Elisha ben Abuya all <i>look</i>
but Akiva <i>enters</i> and <i>departs</i> - Akiva does something different to
the other three. If Pardes is taken as all of Jewish learning, three Rabbis
learn objectively from a distance, whereas one learns subjectively from their
own lived experience. If Pardes is taken as a place of being, as a place of encountering
the Divine, the three Rabbis lift the veil to look beyond, whereas Akiva actually
crosses from the realm of the finite to the realm of the Infinite and back
again. Three Rabbis are limited by the boundary, whereas Akiva encounters and
crosses the boundary. He doesn’t stare objectively from a distance, he doesn’t
study what is beyond - he lives it. He knows he cannot live it fully for that
is not his realm, so he enters and then he leaves. We, therefore, can be either
like the Rabbis or like Akiva in this tale. To quote Buber’s I-Thou, Ben Azzai,
Ben Zoma and Elisha ben Abuya all relate to Pardes on an I-It level, on the level
of distant objectivity. That is the level that is actually dangerous, because
it separates us from real experience. Akiva, on the other hand, crosses over
and experiences - just as the High Priest in the Tabernacle is allowed to cross
the boundary - albeit only at certain times and in certain ways. The boundary
between the human and the Divine, between the finite and the Infinite, keeps us
safe, but it is not intended to keep us out forever, but merely to guide us
safely into the realm beyond and, importantly, to guide us back home. It serves
as a warning to those who are not ready to enter, and also as an invitation to
enter only for those who are prepared. The boundary is not a prohibition, it is
a place of reflection and potential encounter, a place to ask ourselves if we
are truly ready to cross over. For we have to cross over, we cannot gawp from afar
dispassionately and objectively, for to do so would not be a genuine experience
of the Divine.<br /></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">So, we prepare ourselves as the High Priest does
before entering the Holy of Holies. In every moment of our lives we face the
boundary between the finite and the infinite. At every moment, we are asked the
question <i>Ayyeka</i> – Where are you? (Gen. 3:9) – are you now ready to cross
over the boundary and truly experience Me? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that moment of crossing over, perhaps only then
can we truly fulfil one mitzvah expressed in this week’s Torah portion – <i>k’doshim
tihyu ki kadosh ani Adonai Eloheichem – </i>Be holy, be distinct, be separate [from
this limited existence] for I, the Eternal your God am holy, am distinct, am
separate [from this limited existence] (Lev. 19:2).<br /></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">This Shabbat, then, may we take tentative steps
toward the boundary of existence by reflecting on ourselves and by preparing
ourselves spiritually. May we not participate in Jewish ritual and study from
afar but up close, with all our heart and all our soul and all our might. May
we prepare ourselves to enter the inner chamber (Avot 4:16), so that may God
delight in our steps (Ps. 37:23), and let us say, Amen.</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
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Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-44367224860202222452021-04-16T13:01:00.002-07:002021-04-16T13:01:19.512-07:00Tazria-Metzorah Sermon 2021 – How To Return from Impurity<p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This week’s Torah portion
hits me on a rather emotional level. At first glance, it’s a double portion focused
on impurity – from that of childbirth or from a peculiar disease known as <i>tzara’at</i>,
which is a scaly affliction that affects both people and inanimate objects,
even houses. On a superficial level, this reading is about exclusion, about
determining who has to be quarantined away from the rest of the camp. Today,
though, as we’re starting to discuss how we might return to physical activities
like services and educational sessions in the Temple, it reads very
differently.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Yes, I appreciate that in
order to relate this week’s reading to our current predicament that I have to
rather gloss over the concept of impurity from childbirth. To do so is not to
ignore that part of Torah, which I believe demonstrates once again Torah’s
concern about uncontrolled blood loss. The difference between the blood
impurity of childbirth and the impurity of the carrier of <i>tzara’at</i>,
though, is important – the mother can only transfer impurity where the carrier
of <i>tzara’at</i> can transfer the disease itself. It is almost as if Torah is
talking about levels of risk of transference, and my focus this evening is on
that second level.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Last year, when I spoke
on Tazria-Metzorah, I spoke of the loneliness of enforced isolation, an
isolation that we were all still somewhat in shock about at the time. I spoke
of the fact that Torah doesn’t inform us what to do while in isolation, it just
tells us when to isolate and when one can come out of isolation. Torah’s
interest is not on individual people but on the entire people, on the camp, so
what a person does in that time of isolation is essentially up to them. Last year,
I spoke of the three stages of isolation – shock, acceptance, and return. Shock
is what we experienced in March of 2020 when we suddenly had to all isolate,
acceptance is what happened in the months after, and now, as more and more
members of our community are vaccinated, we start to consider return.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I recently read someone asking
why God chose to use just one group of people – the Levites – are priests… why
create an exclusive club and thus a hierarchy between the people? Many people,
including early Reform Jews, abhor the concept of priesthood for its notion of
intermediaries between God and the people, for the idea that some people could
be more elevated for special service than others. I don’t see that. To
understand why the priests were needed, we have to go back to preparations for the
Revelation at Sinai, in Exodus 19. There, God informs Moses to put up a
boundary around the mountain so that people do not touch it and die. In the
following chapter, the people are so terrified of God’s awesomeness that they
ask Moses to speak to God on their behalf, saying, “Do not have God speak with
us or we will die” (Ex. 20:19). Later in Torah, in the portion of Shemini that
we read only recently, Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu offer an improper fire and
are immediately killed. Since God is beyond the human realm, the closer one
comes to God, the closer one comes to danger on a human level, in other words,
closeness to God risks human death. A rather trite comparison might be
electricity – it is awesome, powerful, it illuminates our lives, but if we
touch it, we risk death. God’s realm is not the human realm, so to draw close
to God means to risk losing contact with the human realm. So, the priests are
not there for control, they are the safety specialists – they’re the people
whose specific task it is to allow the people to draw as close as possible to
God without getting dangerously close.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I understand, of course,
that Rabbis aren’t priests, especially now there is no Tabernacle or Temple to
which people might regularly bring sacrifices. Nonetheless, as our community
starts to explore how we might slowly return to activities in the same physical
space, I find much sympathy with the priests in this week’s reading, especially
when it comes not to blood impurity but to disease impurity. The priest is
responsible for balancing sacred concerns with physical concerns. They want to
bring the person back into the camp but they have to be absolutely certain that
there is no risk of contamination of the larger community. This is not an issue
of control or hierarchy, it’s an issue of public safety. The priest, who
normally protects the individual from sacred danger by drawing too close to
God, suddenly finds themselves protecting the entire community from physical
danger. Their sphere of responsibility has widened enormously, in a similar way
to how the High Priest atones on behalf of the entire people on Yom Kippur. I
wonder – and I realize I may very well be projecting onto the text here – if the
priest is afraid of the harm that might come from their decision if their
assessment is wrong in any way? Perhaps that’s why the text goes into so much
detail as to how to make the observation – so that the priest is guided through
that awesome and terrifying process. In a similar way, I guess, that’s why Temple
Beth Shalom has a Reopening Committee that is addressing how we all might
return physically – so that the responsibility does not fall on one person. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The reality is, though,
that I am afraid. I’m afraid of us coming back together and people not being
able to sing in services or hug one another for a long time, resulting in them
being really excited to return and then actually really disappointed at how
services feel for a while. I’m afraid that we’ll take precautions but still
become a source for someone in our community getting sick, or worse. And at the
same time, I’m afraid for something that Torah does not concern itself with –
with the feelings of extended isolation and loneliness of members of our community.
What the priests have in this week’s reading, and what I feel at the moment, is
a sense of awesome responsibility, in terms of awe being that reverential
feeling of fear and wonderment. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That feeling of awesome
responsibility cannot limit action, though. At some point, the priest has to
make the call as to whether or not the person must stay physically away from
others or whether they can return. That is where I believe this week’s reading
is incredibly sensitive, because after the assessment and the decision to let
someone return, Tazria-Metzorah provides a ritual for returning to the
community. I’ve started to wonder about this. When we return to Shabbat
services, what will our ritual be? It needs to be more than a Shehecheyanu. We’ve
become so used to ritualizing behavior around the wearing of masks or social
distancing that we need to be sure that that’s not our only rituals around
prayer. In this week’s reading, (specifically Lev. 14), the person returning
brings two live, clean birds, a cedar stick, a strip of crimson wool<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and some hyssop. An extraordinary ritual
follows that includes presentation of a guilt offering and a sin offering on
behalf of the person returning to communal life. Torah specifically then says, “<i>vichiper
alav hakohen v’taheir</i> – “thus shall the priest atone for him and he shall
be clean” (Lev. 14:20). Would we, as we consider returning to the community,
need to bring a guilt offering, a sin offering? Do we need atonement? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Maybe there is a place
for a guilt offering and a sin offering, for the times when we did not socially
distance, for tolerating a society so unequal that when the pandemic raged
through this country it was devastating for certain communities and not those
we lived in. Maybe we would need something in place of a guilt offering and a sin
offering for the times when we secretly did not keep best practice, did not
stay socially distanced, either for us individually or, as on Yom Kippur, on
behalf of all those in our community who erred in this way. And what would it
mean for atonement to be made for us? The root of the Hebrew word atonement is
return, return to the right way, return to connecting with God, return away
from previous modes of behavior. A ritual of return is surely necessary.
Perhaps it would include washing of hands as we walked into the Sanctuary, a
ritual of cleanliness but also a ritual of washing off the past. I have yet to create
the ritual, but our Torah reading this week definitely demonstrates what I profoundly
feel at the moment - the importance of some kind of ritual of return.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Once again, during the
pandemic, the Book of Leviticus has revealed itself not to be a dry list of
hierarchical responsibilities and arcana rituals but, rather, a text that is
extremely sensitive to balancing the physical and spiritual needs of the
community in the face of contamination and even death. What it shows us is that
the return to the physical community must be done very carefully, in measured
ways, and accompanied by some kind of ritual of return that allows us to
express physically what we are feeling as we slowly transition from isolation
to community. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The first phase is
isolation – shock – was sudden and we were unprepared. The second stage –
isolation – was extended and difficult. Now we slowly and carefully approach
the third stage – return. So, may our return to physical community be loving,
be deliberate, may it acknowledge and help work through our differing fears,
and may it ultimately help us return to God <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-29456786059437232052021-04-09T14:01:00.002-07:002021-04-09T14:01:18.556-07:00Shemini Sermon 2021 - Judaism as a Religion<p>How do we define the word “religion?” The
ancient Israelites couldn’t define religion – there was no such thing to them
and hence in the Bible there is no word for religion. That doesn’t mean the
ancient Israelites weren’t religious – of course they were – but they did not
understand religion as a separate concept. For them, Judaism was a way of life,
something which is often nowadays called a “cultural system.” But a cultural system could be entirely
secular, so we need to include some sense of the Divine in order to define
religion.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">According to one modern definition, a <b>religion</b>
is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe,
especially when considered as the creation of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supernatural" title="Supernatural"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">supernatural</span></a>
agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and
often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Let’s unpack that. A religion starts with a
set of beliefs regarding the cause, nature and purpose of the universe. Most
religions have a creation narrative and many have visions of the end of the
universe as well, Judaism being no exception to this. Interestingly, though,
while the Torah’s creation narrative is perhaps the most famous of all, it has
no eschatology – no reference to final days. The rest of the Bible does, in the
prophets and the writings, but not Torah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So, even though Reform Jews often focus more on Torah than on the rest
of the Bible or on subsequent Rabbinic commentary, our religion has
traditionally had a set of beliefs regarding the nature and purpose of the
universe, and that becomes rather difficult for us because Reform Jews don’t
believe the original beliefs. An ultra-Orthodox Jew can rest comfortably in the
belief that the world was created less than 6000 years ago by a deity who
created the whole world in six days, but there are very few Reform Jews who
believe the same. We take the findings of science, we see that the Earth is
millions of years old and that the universe is billions of years old, and we
take the biblical narrative figuratively, not historically. What this means is
that as Reform Jews we actually struggle to understand the nature and purpose
of the universe because we have no textual guide as a literalist does mean that
we have to come to understand the nature and purpose of the universe in
differing ways. I say literalist because we can never know the true intention
of the Biblical text – whether it is intended to be understood more literally
or metaphorically. When God speaks the universe into being, for example, is
there any way to understand that other than metaphorically? If the Bible is
metaphor, though, then the original beliefs regarding the nature and purpose of
the universe are also metaphors, which means that they are wildly open to
interpretation. That, indeed, is surely one of the strengths of Judaism – it’s constant
and expansive interpretive method. The challenge for a traditional with
expansive interpretation, though, is that it’s difficult to demarcate
boundaries of what is and what isn’t authentically Jewish. The risk of falling
outside acceptable boundaries is exactly seen in this week’s Torah portion of
Shemini, in which Nadav and Avihu offer strange fire to God and are immediately
killed. Traditional interpretation says that they erred because they were
drunk, which is why immediately following their deaths, Torah warns the priests
not to drink while on duty. But that’s just an interpretation of the text. What
if they merely understood the fire differently and brought something that was
merely outside the norm? Despite Torah telling us later (e.g. Deut. 28:14) not
to turn to the right or the left, the essence of interpretation is looking in
differing directions and exploring their consequences. So, if anything, while
we might say that Judaism says that God is the cause of the universe, the
nature and purpose of the universe is open to interpretation even in Jewish
tradition, even if it’s guided by at least a formative text, which is the Bible.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">But what do we mean when we talk about God?
Are we talking about a supernatural agent, as the original definition
suggested? Looking further at the Biblical text, reference to God as a
supernatural agent make sense but, once again, that’s not necessarily how many Jews
have always seen God. A supernatural agency is that which exists totally outside
nature but which can interact within nature in order to transform elements
within nature. Kabbalists went beyond the literal reading of the text, though,
to try to uncover the mystical pathways to connect with that which is,
essentially, only crudely described in the Bible using words to guide us
towards the indescribable. Many Jews today also see God as more of a
transnatural agency – a Deity both outside nature and within nature, perhaps
expressed through nature but not only of nature. So, once again, many Jews
today find themselves with no strict textual guidance on matters of theology.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">According to our definition, a religion also
has a set of devotional or ritual observances, but that also leads to interesting
questions for Reform Jews. Even up to only a few hundred years ago, it was
standard devotional practice for only men and not women to wear certain prayer
garments or to lead communal prayer. There were exceptions to those norms, of
course, like Hannah Rochl, the Maiden of Ludmir, but the exceptions often
proved the rule. Today, however, these restrictions no longer apply, in
differing ways depending on Reform, Conservative and even some Orthodox
communities. There is no uniformity in Jewish ritual practice… indeed, there
definitely never has been. Even in Torah, we see variant practice, just like
with Nadav and Avihu. There may have been serious consequences for expressing
variant practice, of course, but to speak of one set of devotional or ritual
observances is challenging. It’s easier in the orthodox community because a
person is defined as an Orthodox Jew if they follow the rulings of the code of
law known as the Shulchan Aruch. However, Orthodoxy is not the normative or
default position of Jewish ritual observance. So, then, what does it mean for
Judaism to have a set of devotional or ritual observances? A set is a
collection of things that are not necessarily the same. Therefore, we could say
that we have a set of rituals around prayer or a set of rituals around festival
observance, or a set of rituals around food such as the laws of kashrut which
are expounded upon in our Torah portion. While one Jew may take from each of
those sets according to one interpretation, another Jew may take differing
observances from those sets according to their interpretation. There are limits
on those sets, though, and the limit usually involves symbols or rituals from
other faith traditions. That, indeed, may be where Nadav and Avihu come undone –
in offering fire that is “strange” in the sense of “more akin to the fire of
other communities around them.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The final part of our definition of a
religion is that there is a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.
Interestingly, this is where I think Reform Judaism has a strength in that we
are often just as interested in our ethical conduct in this world as we are our
ritual observances. Judaism is not a monotheistic religion, despite what many
people say. Judaism is Ethical Monotheism, which means that belief in God –
however one understands God – must be accompanied not only by appropriate <i>ritual</i>
conduct, as I just mentioned, but also by appropriate <i>ethical</i> conduct. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">I appreciate that this was only one of countless
definitions of religion, but I find this a particularly interesting one to
consider during this week’s reading of the Torah portion of Shemini because of the
behavior of Nadav and Avihu which challenged what was at that time considered
to be “normative” Jewish “religious” practice. Reviewing this definition,
especially in light of this Torah portion, reminds us that Judaism is, and has
always been, far more flexible in interpretation of what constitutes normative
religious thought and behavior than we might think. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some Jews today might baulk at the idea and
insist that there is normative behavior with only specific small variance, but
even the presence of widely differing Ashkenazi and Sephardi custom shows that
to be untrue. How we eat, what we believe, how we act, how we mourn, how we
celebrate…. these are all diverse, wondrous sets of practices from which
differing Jews can find comfort at differing times of their lives. With that in
mind, then, perhaps we shouldn’t busy ourselves worrying necessarily about
defining “What is Judaism?” but rather saying “What is <i>my</i> Judaism?” or,
perhaps even better considering the essence of Judaism is in community, “What
is <i>our</i> Judaism?” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">I believe that our Judaism is a shared and
multifaceted response to the varying expressions of Judaism of the past and of
the present. More than that, I believe our Judaism speaks in many voices -
sometimes answers, sometimes questions. As we read the Torah portion of Shemini
this week, then, and as we explore what it means for us to journey through the
Omer from slavery in Egypt to full expression of Jewish self at Sinai, let us
explore that core question, “What is <i>our</i> Judaism?” for in that
exploration, I believe we draw many steps further along that path to religious
freedom. May our steps on that journey be guided with strength, and let us say,
Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-3712284811486027752021-03-05T15:29:00.001-07:002021-03-05T15:29:14.305-07:00When the Rabbi's Away...! The consequences of harsh leadership in Ki Tissa (March 2021)<p> <span style="text-align: justify;">Why is it that
the Israelites turn so quickly to idolatry after having experienced God’s
Presence at Sinai? This is the people who witnessed wonders and miracles in
Egypt, as they fled from Egypt, and then at Sinai, where they experienced
literally the greatest thing ever – God’s revelation to them – a revelation
that clearly contains a prohibition against building graven images. How, then,
is it that because Moses returns up the mountain and is away from the people
for too long, the people ignore everything that they’ve heard – the Word of God
through Moses – and start building an altar? They say that they build it
because they do not know what has happened to Moses but that doesn’t seem to
make sense. When a religious figure teaches something, their immediate absence
doesn’t render what they say to be irrelevant – at least, as a Rabbi I feel
like that has been a safe assumption in my work!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">The most common
explanation for their behavior is that, out of fear, they reverted to what they
knew. The people had been in Egypt for hundreds of years and so they were
exposed to Egyptian idolatry constantly. This explanation suggests that as soon
as they feared that the new Israelite ways of worship were going to fail
through Moses’ absence, they reverted back to idolatry. Indeed, in this opinion
the mixed multitude who left Egypt with the people were clearly the basis for
this return to idolatry. But this seems problematic for two reasons. Firstly,
the Israelites had seen the Egyptian theological structures destroyed. The Ten
Plagues were not just an attack on Egypt, they were an attack on Egypt’s gods
like the Nile and the Sun. The Egyptians who remained did not just live in a
land whose infrastructure had been destroyed, but also in a land whose deities
had been totally humiliated. There should have been absolutely no appeal, then,
to return to the theological practices of the Egyptians because they were shown
to the Israelites to be worthless. The second reason this explanation is
problematic is that when a religious leader doesn’t appear for a service, the
laity who lead the service in their place don’t break into spontaneous
idolatry! It’s not as though every time I take a vacation the rest of the
congregation wheel out a sacred golden calf to worship! Or, I should say, if
they do, they’ve done a very good job of hiding it! Instead, the people who
attend services do what they can – the service goes on. Reflecting that back
into our text, there seems to be no reason for the Israelites to suddenly
create a golden calf in Moses’ absence.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">So what leads
them to do it? Another common explanation, similar to the first, focuses on fear.
The Israelites panic without Moses to guide them. But just as before, panic
doesn’t necessarily mean idolatry. The Israelites panicked at the Sea of Reeds,
but they didn’t start worshipping idols – instead they turned to Moses who
guides them. Here, with Moses absent, they could have just turned to Aaron instead.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">But perhaps
their reaction at the Sea and their reaction to Aaron here can help us. Earlier
in the Book of Exodus, when the Israelites are trapped at the Sea of Reeds, the
community’s reaction to Moses is anger. “Why did you bring us here to die?”
they ask (Ex. 14:11-12). In other words, they actually have no faith in their
leader. Similarly, here, the people don’t politely ask Aaron to build them an
idol. The Hebrew tells us <i>vayyikkahel ha’am <b>al</b> aharon</i> – the
people assembled <b>against </b>Aaron. This is why midrash has a number of
stories explaining why Aaron gives in to their requests – he doesn’t agree with
what they’re doing but he realises, according to midrash, that with Moses gone,
the people will kill him if he doesn’t do what they say. Whereas Moses throughout
Torah stands up to the people when they rebel, Aaron does not.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">There is a
profound difference between the leadership models of Moses and Aaron. Aaron
gives the people what they want, Moses does not. Moses is combative and aloof in
order to shepherd the people away from danger and to keep them in relationship
with God. When Korach challenges Moses later in Torah, Moses doesn’t cave – he challenges.
Aaron, on the other hand, when finally on his own, does not stand his ground. In
differing moments when the Israelites risked returning to idolatry, Aaron’s
response is to capitulate, while Moses’ response is either to fight or,
importantly, to create something new to stop the Israelites from returning to
old ways. For example, the people complain about being trapped at the Sea so Moses
creates a new path for them, the people complain about lack of water so Moses
strikes a rock to bring them water.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Moses’ leadership
model is the stronger, but it is also flawed, even without superimposing it into
a modern understanding of leadership. If the people are constantly reverting to
idolatry and anger at their leader, it speaks not just of them but also of him,
although I acknowledge that the relationship between the people and Moses is
still relatively new. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nonetheless, even
though by the end of Deuteronomy he has safely delivered the people to the
land, he is not allowed to join them there and the people constantly revert to
idolatry afterwards so in some sense he succeeds and in another he does not. Most
importantly, Moses does not succeed in removing the temptation of idolatry from
the people – indeed, it is only through acts of violence that Moses temporarily
halts its spread among the people. I do appreciate that I may be setting Moses
up to fail here because maybe the entire message of the Biblical narrative is
that even a leader as great as Moses couldn’t remove idolatry from the people,
so how could anyone else?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Nonetheless,
there’s a reason that the people rebel in this week’s Torah portion and beyond,
which is the model of leadership that Moses has embarked upon. His
father-in-law Jethro has already warned him of the danger of centralization of
leadership into one figure and yet that model of centralization continues, which
is why Korach is able to inspire rebellion later with the words “the entire congregation
are all holy and the Eternal One is in their midst, so why do you raise
yourselves above the Eternal’s assembly?” (Num. 16:3) Moses is too distant a
leader to affect change in the people. He relies too heavily on the divine
authority given to him, and he rallies the people with an almost identical hierarchical
system. When he talks to them, it is with frustration at their failings, not with
praise for their successes. He views them either as rebels (Num. 20:10) or as potential
rebels, not with the gentleness that newly liberated slaves need. He demands
too much, and as a result, they fail in his eyes, and he lets them know.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">The episode of
the golden calf is, in fact, terrifying. Three thousand people are put to the
sword for their transgression. This is a slaughter the likes of which the
people have never before witnessed by their own kind. There is nothing subtle
about Moses’ message – obey or die. It almost makes me wonder if it was a
set-up, if he expected some of the people to revert to idolatry during his extended
absence and he hoped they might expose themselves in his absence so he could
deal with them when he returned. In that reading, his response to Joshua saying
that it is not the sound of battle he hears in the camp but the sound of
blasphemy (Ex. 32:18) is not because he recognizes it, but because he expected
it. Even if that’s not the case, Moses fails the people at Sinai. He has led
from the top, the people are only just starting to form their sense of
identity, and then he – the intermediary between the people and God –
disappears. What else were they to do other than try to reach God through the
means they knew? And when they do sin, he checks in with Aaron to ask why he
allowed such a thing to happen, but he never checks in with the people to find
out why they did it. Instead, he immediately assumes that they’re rebellious
and punishes them accordingly. He serves as judge, jury and executioner, when
he could have instead taken on the role of teacher or loving parent. Moses
listens to the people only when he has to decide matters of law, and that is a
cold, distant way to relate to people. There is no-one who gently guides the
people, so they never really change their behavior.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">So, what might
we learn from this Torah portion of Ki Tissa? I learn that it doesn’t help the
people for today’s religious leaders to be like Moses – aloof, filled with scorn
and rebuke, assuming the worst of their community, ignoring their pre-existing
behavior patterns and insisting on new ones brought down from on high. This
week’s Torah portion reminds me that establishing communal praxis without
communal buy-in is doomed to failure, even if it’s God Almighty who is setting
that praxis. Moreover, this week’s Torah portion shows us the danger of
confusing leadership with control, and how control becomes a self-perpetuating
system that leads to rebellion as soon as control disappears. It shows us the problems
that are caused by religious leaders being distant. It shows us that Moses, and
indeed all religious leaders, work best when they are able to offer viable
alternatives to whatever currently ails the community and it shows us that while
sometimes we have to stand firm in the face of the mob, religious leaders have
to do everything in their power to stop the mob from forming in the first
place.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">With all that in
mind, may God guide our community as we continue to work together to create and
implement a communal vision. May leaders and laity continue to support and
strengthen each other, may we be forgiving of our mistakes, and may we continue
to be creative whenever difficult times arrive. May such be God’s will, and let
us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-67085133990697203842021-02-19T16:33:00.002-07:002021-02-19T16:33:25.824-07:00God has Given... But is God Taking Away? A sermon on the HB-47 bill<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In January of 2017, some people came to
speak to me about a bill that they were hoping to bring to the legislature in
the future. The bill would follow a similar law in Oregon that would help
people suffering from a terminal illness to die on their own terms. It was not
an assisted dying bill, it was a bill that said that the terminally ill individual
could go to their primary care physician to talk of their desire to die, they
would refer the individual to mental health support services if they wished,
but ultimately if not then that physician would be able to write a prescription
for a medical cocktail that the individual had to pick up from the pharmacy
themselves, then could take home, consume, and it would painlessly lead to
their death. The key thing of the bill was that the cause of death on the death
certificate would not be suicide but the terminal illness that the person was
suffering from. I was very sympathetic but to me there was a core problem with
the bill – that I thought it was dishonest because the cause of death was, as
far as I was concerned at the time, suicide. I wanted to help but emotionally
could not do so. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Two years ago, my thinking on this started
to shift. I gave a sermon in which I shared a narrative from Talmud (Ketubot
104a) in which Rabbi Judah HaNasi is dying and the other Rabbis and his
students decree a fast and pray to keep him alive. His maidservant went up to
the roof and prays that the lower realms might win out over the upper realms,
in other words, that he be kept alive and not taken to heaven. However, when
she sees how often he has to go to the bathroom, and how uncomfortable he is
taking off and putting on his tefillin, and how much discomfort he is in, she
changes her mind. However, the sages are still praying for him to remain alive,
so she takes a jug and throws it to the ground. The sages are shocked by the
sound, stop praying for a moment, and as a result Judah HaNasi dies. Did she
kill him? No, she clearly didn’t. She just saw that keeping someone alive just
so that they might suffer is not a just cause, so she intervenes and he then
dies as a result of what was killing him in the first place. It’s not an
identical situation to this bill but it is very similar and it does highlight a
particular ethic, which is codified in the 16<sup>th</sup> century text the
Shulchan Arukh that says that <span style="background: white; color: #202124;">“it
is forbidden, according to the law of the Torah, to inflict pain upon
any living creature. On the contrary, <b>it is our duty to relieve the pain of
any creature…</b>” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But, for
the most perverse reason, many people are extending their suffering instead of
ending it, and that reason is life insurance policies, which are usually
invalidated if someone takes their own life. The fact that people endure
continued extreme suffering in order to financially protect their surviving
loved ones is clearly immoral. So, putting the cause of death as the terminal
illness means that such a thing no longer happens. And, indeed, had it not been
for the pre-existing terminal illness, the person involved would not even be
taking this concoction, so actually one can say that the terminal illness was
the overlying cause, just as the maidservant didn’t cause Rabbi Judah haNasi’s
death even if she hastened it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">It is
fascinating that once this law was enacted in Oregon, the number of people who
died from suicide decreased dramatically because people were more openly
talking about their issues with a primary care physician who was then able to
refer them to professional support if they needed. Indeed, a third of the
people who started the process with their physician never even completed the
process but did end up with professional support or, importantly, the essential
human ability to make a choice as their decreasing mobility robbed them of
basic choices.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">My sermon
two years ago also included reference to the death of Saul in 1 Samuel 31. Saul
is seriously wounded and he turns to his armor bearer and asks to be run
through so that the Philistines do not torture him. The armor bearer is afraid
to do so, so Saul takes his own life instead (I Sam. 31:2-4). Many commentators
say that Saul behaved improperly, as with much else in his life, but one
minority opinion from the 14<sup>th</sup> century Besamim Rosh says that if a
person is dying and in intolerable pain, it is permitted for them to take their
own life. Minority opinion though it may be, it is still an opinion in our
tradition that rather accords with the narrative of the maidservant in Tractate
Ketubot.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Four years
after I was first consulted, the bill is now being voted on in the Legislature
and, after much reflection and difficult soul searching, I have now openly
spoken in support of the bill. In my 16-year Rabbinic career, I have had too
many people who are slowly and painfully dying ask me if there is anything I
could do to end it all. I have always told them the same – that there is
nothing I can do. Now, by supporting this bill, I feel that I can. I can give
them a real choice, through supporting this bill I can help them get support or
a little dignity as their decaying body tries to rob them of it. And to be
clear, this is not encouraging terminally ill people to end their lives, it’s
just allowing them to do it painlessly and with dignity. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">At a
funeral service, I always recite the line <i>Adonai natan vAdonai lakach y’hi
shem Adonai m’vorach</i> – God has given, God has taken away, may God’s Name be
blessed. Could I recite that line if someone with a terminal illness got a
prescription that deliberately ended their life early? Yes, I absolutely could…
because God “took away” the moment they got a terminal illness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">There are
many voices in Judaism….perhaps too many voices… that say that suffering is a
gift from God, that it helps us atone, elevates us, and is even a demonstration
of God’s love (</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">e.g.
Genesis Rabbah 9:8, Zohar, Gen., 180b, etc.)<span style="background: white; color: #202124;">. I understand why a people who have suffered for thousands
of years would say that because it provides a positive view of something
profoundly negative. But that is a theological position that can help people
move through suffering. At the same time, though, just like the maidservant, I
would never seek to extend someone else’s suffering because I thought it was
good for them. As Lion Feuchtwanger wrote in the Paris Gazette in 1940, “it is
only the strong who are strengthened by suffering; the weak are made weaker.”
When someone has already been weakened by a terminal illness, when they have
suffered beyond the point that they can handle it any more, more suffering is
not a gift from God or, if it is, it’s not a gift that most people appreciate!
Indeed, to say to someone else that their suffering should extend because of a
particular theological belief of mine would not only be religious hubris in the
extreme, but also disturbingly callous. If a person is suffering toward the end
of their life and if they believe that suffering is a gift from God, then it is
absolutely their right to ignore this bill and suffer until the very end. That
is different to a person saying that they believe that suffering is a gift from
God so others should suffer, too. Imposing one’s own religious beliefs to
prolong another person’s suffering is unequivocally immoral. You can say, “But
our tradition says….” and even if I agreed with you (which I likely wouldn’t
because our tradition rarely speaks with only one voice on any issue), you
still don’t have the right to extend another person’s suffering as a result of
your theological belief, only your own. If you believe Judaism is against it,
don’t do it yourself. It’s really that simple. And this is core and I believe
deserves repeating again – if your religious view prolongs the agony of another
person who does not share the same theology or practice as you, it does not
speak well of your religion. As it is, I refuse to listen to anyone who says
that suffering is a gift from God and it’s not our place to interfere in it but
who takes painkillers if they have a headache. That kind of pious hypocrisy
does not interest me. Similarly, I refuse to listen to anyone who says that
it’s not for us to intervene in God’s plan for our bodies but who also uses a
doctor. That kind of pious hypocrisy does not interest me. I get it – it’s an
emotional topic. We instinctively don’t want to make it easier for people to
die but the reality is that the people who will be affected by this bill are
already actively dying. Their terminal illness cannot be stopped. This doesn’t
make people die, this doesn’t convince them to end their own lives because if
someone is utterly determined to end their life to avoid suffering, they’re
going to do it anyway, it's just that they will likely choose a method that is
extremely painful in the short term to avoid suffering long-term. This bill
helps reduce human suffering. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
question I ask myself is “Could I, as a Rabbi, sit with someone as they took
this medication, just as I already sit with someone who is actively dying?” The
answer is yes. If I can be there for someone to help them die with dignity,
instead of in pain, if I can make that moment sacred for them, then I will.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But, isn’t
it my duty to save everyone’s life? Doesn’t Judaism abhor suicide as a
rejection of the gift of life from God? It used to. Orthodox authorities used
to even deny mourning rites to people who took their own life because it was
said that they had essentially denied God in that act. Reform Judaism has
always considered that to be callous and cruel in the extreme. Influenced by
this, more and more contemporary Orthodox authorities create a loophole and say
that only someone who was not fully in their own mind would ever reject God by ending
their own life, so we assume that they were essentially not in their own mind
at the time, and we afford them mourning rites accordingly. I would say, if
it’s possible for that, so it must be possible for this. Only those who live
with intolerable chronic pain, or those who hear the cries for any kind of end
by some of those who die from terminal illness can understand that suffering
can take a person out of themselves in the cruellest of ways. An exception must
be made for terminally ill patients. Even if we don’t count Saul as an
exception, we do count Masada as an exception. There, in the year 74 CE,
Josephus says that as the Romans finally ended their successful siege, the
Jewish rebels there took their own lives instead of suffering at the hands of
their besiegers. For nearly 2000 years, that act has stood as heroic
resistance. So, if those people defeated by the Romans, knowing that the rest
of their lives would be filled with unimaginable suffering, are allowed to be
an exception, so too today’s terminally ill patients must be allowed to be an
exception if they so choose. In my mind, it must always be better for me to sit
with someone, to say Sh’ma, and to have them thank God for the life they’ve led
up to that point than to prolong their pain and to doubt or curse God for the extended
suffering they now endure and for them to beg me in despair to help end their
life. And if I’m wrong, if it is not better, let it be on me, not on them.
Terminally ill patients have enough to deal with already without any person
saying that they’re doing something wrong. I hold no terminally ill individual
liable for anything they do. I believe that everything we do should be to
support them and help them maintain their humanity which was, indeed, a gift
from God. I believe that if they choose to end their life on their terms
instead of on the terms of the terminal illness from which they suffer, that we
should support them in that choice and only blame the illness that ultimately
led them to that decision. Judaism is an evolving religious civilization, so
let it evolve with compassion for the most vulnerable in our society, as it
always has. Let it not be the cause of prolonged agony, but the gateway to a
life – and death - of dignity in the presence of God. And let us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br /></p><p></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-32610289137455471952021-02-12T17:59:00.002-07:002021-02-12T17:59:25.542-07:00Can There be Mitzvah Without a Metzaveh? - Mishpatim, February 2021<p> <span style="text-align: justify;">The Torah
portion of Mishpatim is chock-full of commandments. Moses is still up on Sinai
after having heard the </span><i style="text-align: justify;">aseret hadibrot</i><span style="text-align: justify;">, the Ten Sayings – more commonly
known as the Ten Commandments – and now God continues to let Moses know of more
laws to help the community live in the future. Laws of indentured servitude are
mentioned, as are laws concerning penalties for various crimes, laws regarding
loans, laws regarding courts of law, laws regarding the mistreatment of foreigners,
laws regarding festivals and so much more – traditionally, it is said that
there are fifty-three commandments in this Torah portion alone!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">The word <i>mitzvah</i>
means commandment. It comes from the root <i>tzavav</i>, meaning to command. But
what does it mean for God to command? Is God really the <i>Metzaveh</i> - the
Supernatural anthropomorphized Commander who barks unquestionable orders from
on high? That is surely the model presented in Torah, but is it how we view God
today? And if not, what does that mean for the concept of <i>mitzvah</i>, of
commandment, itself?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Freud believed
that the anthropomorphic God – the God who talks and acts like we do is a
projection “of man’s own emotional impulses … [so that he] meets his internal
mental processes again outside himself…”<a href="file:///C:/Users/Neil%20Amswych/Desktop/Mishpatim%20sermon%202021.doc#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a>
Rabbinic literature says that all anthropomorphic descriptions of God are just
Torah speaking in human language so that it could be comprehended. Whether that
supernatural God is an external projection of the self, or a linguistic
approximation… either way the concept of God as Commander immediately opens
itself up for scrutiny when we don’t text the Biblical text absolutely
literally. And if God is not compelling us, why would we keep any <i>mitzvah</i>,
any commandment? Do we only feel compelled because of a supernatural Commander,
or can there be another thing driving us? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">For some Jews,
the compulsion to perform <i>mitzvot</i> comes from, to use Leslie Fiedler’s
term, the desire to not be “the terminal Jew, the last of a 4,000 year line.”
In other words, they perform <i>mitzvot</i> out of guilt. Ironically, it is
exactly that kind of reason which might lead them to be the terminal Jew in
their family, for doing things out of guilt is not something any of us wish to
pass down to our children. Similarly, ironically, resorting to the old trope of
“tradition!” no longer holds much appeal in current younger generations who
have been exposed to a wider variety of traditions than ever before, and so
find themselves at the luxury of being able to choose which traditions to
continue. That appeal to tradition worked when the Jewish community was responsible
for enforcing its own laws, but the price of assimilation into the larger secular
society, which of course brought with it great learning and opportunities, was
that the Rabbi and the community were no longer able to enforce commandments. For
the first time, there was no way to punish someone who did not follow a
commandment. What, then, is the point of a commandment if there are no
consequences for following it or not? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">For many Jews
today, God is within us or within the world. If that’s the case, then, does <i>mitzvah</i>
no longer exist? Can we be commanded if the commander is within us or within
the world? Perhaps one answer to this can be found in Talmud, where we learn
(Eruvin 13b) that “for three years Bet Hillel and Bet Shammai debated each
other. These said that the halakhah follows their view, and these said that the
halakhah follows their view. A heavenly voice went forth and declared, “These
and these are the words of the living God”. But the halakhah follows Bet Hillel.”
Two schools of thought believed that the law followed their interpretation.
Although in the end a Divine Voice decrees in favor of one and not the other,
we cannot rely on heavenly voices – indeed, another famous text (Bava Metzia
59a-b) known as the Oven of Akhnai specifically puts the authority for halakhic
decisions on earth by saying <i>lo bashamayim hi</i> – it is not in heaven! It
is up to us to study together and to determine what we are commanded to do. The
law is in our hands, not in the hands of a Supreme Commander on High. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan
translated <i>mitzvot</i> as “folkways designed to ensure the enhancement of
the value of Jewish life.” While I admire his interpretive effort, I don’t
think that is sufficient – indeed, it potential elevates human feelings of
enhancement over any sense of compulsion or duty. It is also extremely subjective
because what one person thinks enhances their Jewish life another might not, at
which point <i>mitzvah</i> becomes a meaningless term.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">Talmud also
teaches us (Shabbat 88a) that at Sinai the Israelites “stood at the foot [lit.
in the bottom] of the mountain… and that ‘This teaches that the Holy One,
blessed is He, covered them with the mountain as an upturned vat. He said to
them, ‘If you accept the Torah, fine. But if not, your burial will be there!’’ When
the Israelites reply to Moses <i>na’aseh v’nishma</i> – we will do and we will
hear, as they say in this week’s Torah portion, that suddenly sounds like desperation
– “Okay, we’ll do it, now put down the mountain and we will hear what you want
us to do!” The reality is, though, that very few Jews today feel like there’s a
mountain held over their head. There is no compulsion from on high. But there
is a drive from within. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB">If it’s not
guilt, not tradition, not compulsion from a supernatural deity above… what is
that drive from within? Rabbi Elli Tikvah-Sarah, my teacher, translates <i>mitzvah</i>
as <i>compelling commitment</i>. That may be a commitment to becoming a better
self, to creating a better world, to maintaining or invigorating an ancient
practice. The commander is not personal, but something deep within, perhaps
tribal, perhaps personal, perhaps communal. It is elusive. Maybe we feel
compelled to perform a <i>mitzvah</i> because it enriches our life – maybe it
brings beauty, calmness, a memory of family long gone. Maybe, then, the
Metzaveh – the Commander – isn’t a supernatural general in the sky, it’s not in
the great supernatural displays. Maybe, instead, it’s the still, small voice
within us, the voice that gently whispers to us with a soft, murmuring sound
that stirs our soul. That’s not a voice that terrifies us into observance, it’s
one that lovingly invites us. After all, Talmud also teaches (Sotah 31a) that
the greater person is the one who acts out of love, not fear. And if that’s the
case, if love is the <i>metzaveh</i>, the guide that brings us to observing <i>mitzvot</i>,
then I believe that our task must be to instil love of Judaism in this generation
and in future generations. Together, we can lovingly pore over the texts of our
tradition and try to give shape to the compelling commitment in our generation.
And it is not any commitment, it is not a social commitment, or a personal one,
but a religious one. A shared religious commitment. Every day we stand together
again at Sinai, trying to understand how to make real our religious sense of
being. By bringing together study, logic, tradition, emotion, love and new readings
of our tradition to be held with traditional readings, we can give shape to the
voice that calls to us from on top of the mountain. It calls us to ascend, not
to meet God who waits on high for us… it calls us to truly find ourselves. May we
ascend in community, in love, and compelled to act together as one Jewish
community. And let us say, Amen. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><br clear="all" />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<!--[endif]-->
<div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="file:///C:/Users/Neil%20Amswych/Desktop/Mishpatim%20sermon%202021.doc#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></span></a><span lang="EN-GB"> Freud (1964), p.150<o:p></o:p></span></p>
</div>
</div>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-44811552913285052422021-02-05T16:16:00.004-07:002021-02-05T16:16:27.921-07:00Yitro 2021 – Being Leaders<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">In this week’s Torah portion of Yitro, we read the
following account:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It came about on the next day that Moses sat down to judge the people,
and the people stood before Moses from the morning until the evening. When
Moses' father-in-law saw what he was doing to the people, he said, "What
is this thing that you are doing to the people? Why do you sit by yourself,
while all the people stand before you from morning till evening?" Moses
said to his father-in-law, "For the people come to me to seek God. If any
of them has a case, he comes to me, and I judge between a man and his neighbor,
and I make known the statutes of God and God’s teachings." Moses' father-in-law
said to him, "The thing you are doing is not good. You will surely wear
yourself out both you and these people who are with you for the matter is too
heavy for you; you cannot do it alone. (Ex. 18: 13-18)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jethro tells Moses that
he will remain the intermediary between the people and God and that he will
admonish the people regarding the statutes and teachings and will “make known
to them the way they shall go and the deeds they shall do.” But at the same
time, Moses has to delegate much of the civic responsibility to members of the
community, essentially setting up Moses as the Supreme Court and some of the
delegated leaders as the local courts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s a start, but I
cannot see that model of leadership being anywhere near sufficient in today’s
Reform movement. For starters, it puts all the God-stuff, all the spirituality,
specifically in the lap of the Rabbi and all the admin in the lap of the Board
and committees. That kind of model mistakenly implies that the work of
committees is not sacred work, that it is done with the end goal of keeping the
roof on, when, in fact, that is a means to an end, not an end in itself. The
end is the encounter with the Divine, individually and communally, which in
Torah happens immediately after Jethro’s management consultancy exercise. But
the Torah community is profoundly hierarchical. Not only is that a product of
its time but it also expresses the reality of the people’s connection to the
tradition and to God at the time – indeed, midrash makes it clear that the
people were so assimilated that they were almost not redeemed at all. As such,
Moses’ task is to educate the people in law and in spirituality, to prepare them
for a life lived in God’s presence and to hold them through that experience. In
the meantime, the people take care of the things that they themselves are
capable of attending to.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In Torah, the account of
revelation that follows is a grand account, a top-down narrative of God above
descending to the people below, who are too feeble to receive the revelation so
they beg Moses to intercede on their behalf. It is an account of a spiritually inept
community relying on their leader for God stuff. That is not me, and that is
not us. Midrash changes that revelation account. There, (</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Song
of Songs Rabbah 1:13) Rabbi Yochanan says that at Sinai an angel carries each
utterance from God to each of the Israelites in turn. The angel says to each
Israelite, “Do you take upon yourself this commandment? So-and-so many rules
are attached to it, so-and-so many penalties are attached to it, so-and-so many
precautionary measures are attached to it, so many precepts and so many lenient
and strict applications are attached to it; such-and-such a reward is attached
to it.” The Israelite would answer, “Yes.” The angel would then say, “Do you
accept the divinity of the Holy Blessed One?” and the Israelite would answer,
“Yes, yes.” Thereupon the angel would kiss the Israelite on the mouth and the
commandment would be learnt. The other Rabbis disagree with Rabbi Yochanan and
say that it wasn’t an angel but the commandment itself that would fly to each
Israelite and ask the same questions before kissing them on the mouth. The
point is the same whether it was an angel or a commandment – this is no longer
the hierarchical model of revelation but the personal, intimate one. It is not
forced upon each person, but requested, invited. Of course, not all midrash is
as gentle – one (Shabbat 88a) talks of God holding Mount Sinai over the heads
of the Israelites and giving them a choice – either accept Torah or die there.
Nonetheless, this specific midrash that we’re focusing on presents a very
different style of community, one that I believe is far more appropriate to our
community today. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In approaching each person individually, this midrash
shows us that connection to Judaism is individual in the context of the larger
Jewish community. We aren’t monolithic in the way we think and the way we
behave. As such, everything we do within community has to be in the context of
relationship – coming to understand each other, our vision, our motivation,
before we can move forward. That takes education, openness, love, dialogue, and
patience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Where this midrash falls down in the context of a
Reform community is in the assumption that every Israelite says yes to every
command. Were that to happen today, and an angel flew to every one of us and
asked, for example, of the command to stone our rebellious child (Deut.
21:18-21), most of us would not answer “yes.” When the angel asks if we accept
the Divinity of God, I think that instead of saying “Yes, yes” as in the
midrash, most of our community members would answer with a question, “Well,
what do you mean by God, exactly?” Not content with acceptance of top-down
hierarchical authority from a supernatural being, many… perhaps most… of our members
might start talking about how they relate to God, experience God, question God,
wrestle with God, doubt God. The essence of Reform Judaism isn’t cherry-picking
as it is often accused of being, but it is about informed choice, about
balancing tradition and modernity. It’s not about obedience, about righteous
people and sinners. If we are all made in the image of God, as Genesis clearly
states (Gen. 1:26), then the answer “no” to an outdated ancient tradition could
also be a godly response.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jewish community today is therefore very different to
the community as presented in Torah and somewhat different to how it is
presented in midrash. Our community is one where we appreciate our differing
spiritual journeys, educational journeys… indeed, personal life journeys.
Instead of waiting for revelation on high, here at Temple Beth Shalom we seek
it together in the context of community. We don’t force individuals to believe
particular things or to behave in particular ways, but instead we come together
in our varied and individualized expressions of Judaism from those who meet God
on Sinai to those who meet God in the still, small voice (I Kings 19:11-13) to
those who do not meet God at all. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And with all this in mind, we turn our attention not
just to everyone in our community but specifically this week to our board
members and to our new members. To our outgoing board members, we thank you for
your dedication to creating a sacred space, a space of tolerance, of learning,
of welcoming, of community. To you we share this prayer:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You have sustained and nourished us with
the sacred wisdom and traditions of our people, helping us to teach Torah to
each other, so may God bless you and keep you.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You have worked alongside us to bring the
light of justice and compassion to God’s broken world, so may god’s face shine
upon you and always be gracious to you.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You have helped to bear witness to our
lives and accompanies us on our journey, you have helped elevate our
consciousness and search for God’s presence in our lives. So, for your
dedication to our community, may God lift your hearts and grant you wholeness,
fulfillment and peace, and let us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To our incoming board members, we share this prayer:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">May God help you!<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I kid, of course. To our incoming board members, we
pray:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Holy One of Blessing, bestow Your blessing
on these leaders who have been elected to serve our community. Instill in them
insight and understanding, perseverance as well as patience. Inspire them to
work together in pursuit of our community’s greatest aspirations, even as they
watch over its daily needs. O God, we are thankful for the dedication and
giving spirit that bring our new Board members before You, prepared to devote
their energies to Your service and to the benefit of us all. Grant success to
their endeavors, and help them to lead us in the pursuit of our sacred mission,
and let us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And finally, to our new members, we pray:<br />
<i>May we cherish your presence among us, learning and growing from your
presence in our community. May we welcome you with open arms and open hearts as
we together open doors of learning, of spirituality and of companionship. May
we support each other through good times and through challenging times. May we
grow together as travelers on a journey through life. May we help each other
receive and respond authentically to the individual call to wrestle with our
tradition. May we, through our connection with each other bring out the best in
each other, and let us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-24216613365753152272020-12-25T17:34:00.002-07:002020-12-25T17:34:19.967-07:00Living in Two Cultures - a Christmas Sermon 2020<p><span style="text-align: justify;">My predecessor in
Bournemouth, Rabbi David Soetendrop, once told me a story. A relative of a
congregant had died and Rabbi David went round one night around this time to
lead the shivah prayers. As he walked up to the house, he noticed in the
windowsill of the lounge, in full view of anyone who walked past or up to the
house, was a small Christmas tree. He knocked on the door and there was a very
loud whisper from the house. “It’s the Rabbi,” someone said from inside, “close
the curtains before he sees the Christmas tree!” They obviously hadn’t realised
that he could see through the glass as he walked up to the house!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">Jews have almost always
lived in two cultures – the culture of our heritage and the culture of the
country in which we happen to be living. There have in the last few thousand
years been very few times and places when the culture of our heritage and of
our home have been the same, so Jewish life has, almost always, been a balancing
act between differing cultures. Sometimes the two cultures complement each
other, sometimes they clash. An example of how they can complement each other
can be found in the habits of so many American Jews, apparently especially New
York Jews, on December 25<sup>th</sup>. Since those Jews aren’t at work and
since restaurants and movie theatres are usually empty at that time (for
non-COVID reasons), such Jews invariably go out for a meal, usually Chinese. So,
it becomes almost an American Jewish custom to go out for Chinese food and a
movie on December 25<sup>th</sup>. This year, it seems to be take-out and
Netflix or Disney +. This isn’t a religious custom at all, even though it's
based on the same day as an important Christian holiday. Jews who take part in
such a custom aren’t participating in anything Christian, they’re just helping
local businesses stay afloat where possible at a time when local Christians
wouldn’t be for a day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">A second way that Jews
have lived in other cultures is by bringing secular customs into the religious
life of the Jewish community. The most famous and obvious example of this is
the seder service, which is filled with Hellenic eating customs, such as
leaning to the left, starting a meal with herbs and with salt water, and ending
the meal with dessert, known in Greek as <i>afikomen</i>. Although we note the
Hellenic origins of these customs, they are unquestionably Jewish because they
were removed from their original secular context and “made Jewish.” Yes, the
Romans may have added salt water at the start of their meal, but <i>we</i> do
it to remember the Exodus from Egypt.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">The third way that Jews
have lived in other cultures is by taking the religious customs of other
communities and then rendering them Jewish. This hasn’t happened for a long
time but is a part of ancient Jewish ritual. Although Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur
receive only brief mentions in Torah, it is interesting how important they
became in Rabbinic Judaism later. Particularly important are a series of ten days
in which human destiny is set, connection with the creation of the world, the enthronement
of God during this time, a sacrifice for atonement to carry away people’s sins.
This is important because these were all Babylonian customs and it seems very
possible - perhaps one could go so far as to say likely - that the Jewish
community picked up these customs during the Babylonian Exile and thus transformed
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">We have so far seen three
differing ways that Jews have lived in non-Jewish culture. The first is by
simply observing secular customs around the same time as the non-Jewish
community celebrated religious customs. The second is by assimilating secular
customs into the religious life of the Jewish community, and the third is by
assimilating non-Jewish religious customs into the religious life of the Jewish
community. All of these were acceptable at the time because they were brought
into Jewish life as opposed to existing alongside it. This third way is the most
controversial so far, though, because of what might be called religious
misappropriation. Bringing in religious rituals from another faith community
into your own is a way of denying the meaning behind them and imposing on that
ritual differing meaning. So, for example, when some churches hold a seder around
Pesach to learn about the Last Supper, they engage in theological violence to
the seder (as well as historical violence since it wasn’t even created yet by
that time!). We wouldn’t want other communities to take out rituals and bring
them into their own religion, so we really shouldn’t be doing the same. We
excuse the theological borrowing from the Babylonians since they are no longer
around to complain about it, although that’s probably not a very good defence
and we’re best to move on from that quickly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">The Enlightenment brought
a fourth way of coexisting which has profoundly challenged the Jewish community
over the last two hundred years. Once religious authority was replaced by secular
authority, and once Jews began mixing socially with non-Jews, a new coexistence
formed. Suddenly, Jews were invited to Christmas parties. Jews started marrying
Christians and the assumption of a fully Jewish household was no longer valid –
indeed, something like one-third of the children in our Religious School come
from mixed-faith parents. In such homes, a form of celebration of both Jewish
and Christian festivals is common and I would even say appropriate, although it
is interesting that in such households the celebration of Christian festivals is
usually not accompanied by religious rituals (such as attending Mass) but by
religious symbols. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">When I was a child, we celebrated
Christmas, despite having two Jewish parents. There’s a photo of me at six
years old stirring the mix for the Christmas cake, which we used to decorate
with a wintry scene every year. We used to hang up stockings, have a tree, the whole
works. There was nothing Christian about it in our minds, despite the name, and
certainly nothing religious for us – my parents explained that it was something
all the other kids at school were doing so they didn’t want us to feel left
out. As I grew up, though, I told my family that I no longer wanted to
celebrate Christmas because it didn’t seem right to me – we were Jewish and 60%
of the kids at my school were Jewish – and I didn’t really want to celebrate a
festival that wasn’t my own. I realize now that we weren’t celebrating a
festival, but we were taking a faith observance from another religious
community, stripping it of all its essential faith aspects, and turning it into
a secular celebration of capitalism and of community. Now that I interact with
faith leaders from many traditions, I see how painful it is to some of them
that people have taken their festival and stripped it of the religious aspects upon
which that celebration was founded.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">So, where does that leave
us in the Jewish community today? For some Jews, their family dynamic is such
that celebrating Christmas is an act of love. That celebration might be
religious, for example, by attending mass at their partner’s or parent’s church
just as they might hope that their non-Jewish family member might come with
them to Temple for Rosh Hashanah. That observance might not be religious,
though, it may be a less religious acknowledgement of something that resonates
strongly with that Christian family member. In many Jewish households, today is
a day when the Christian majority celebrate their festival and so Jews who have
time off work gather together, either for Chinese and a movie, or for other
food and company. For many Jews, Christmas is no longer a Christian festival
but is a day of presents and companionship. It’s this form of celebration which
is probably most influenced by the consumer culture in which we now live, a
culture which seeks to commercialize every aspect of people’s lives, even those
which are sacred to some people. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">At this time, many
prominent Jews ring alarm bells and cry from the rooftops about assimilation
and the end of Judaism. But there’s no need for that to be the case. After all,
this little boy with the Christmas cake ended up being a Rabbi.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Nw-i2tkLp8NVOOGLKhM3JsErWqWR5v1j57JpgQjDFhCj_Cz2zEWpufePazRO6ezQ873dhyphenhyphenxFpxYeXz2lB0-sKdG5XCHoIZpd_MLs12PYjEmJONd8H_3jMyTHzTI_uWqh2hifmOgKoYSX/s488/Neil+Xmas+cake+Aug+79.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="343" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Nw-i2tkLp8NVOOGLKhM3JsErWqWR5v1j57JpgQjDFhCj_Cz2zEWpufePazRO6ezQ873dhyphenhyphenxFpxYeXz2lB0-sKdG5XCHoIZpd_MLs12PYjEmJONd8H_3jMyTHzTI_uWqh2hifmOgKoYSX/s320/Neil+Xmas+cake+Aug+79.JPG" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">Instead, I
believe that we should ask ourselves what it means to authentically live in two
civilizations today. I believe that that means not seizing another faith
tradition’s customs, desacralizing them and making them our own. I also believe
that means showing respect and love to Christians friends, neighbors and family
members. There is no one-size-fits-all approach for Jews on Christmas, although
I will say is that any Jew who attends Shabbat services on Christmas gains
extra mitzvah points!! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">So, may today be the example
we set to our children and to others in which we demonstrate our living in two
cultures, not by abandoning our own culture or by desacralizing and
commercializing another. May we all use today to appropriately honor another
religious tradition while also honoring our own. May we extend our love to our
Christian friends and family as they celebrate their festival, and this
Shabbat, as we also celebrate our own. May our observance of Shabbat today be
the model of tolerance, love and friendship that helps us continue to live in
two cultures. And let us say, Amen. <span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-15274314642273444262020-12-18T12:51:00.005-07:002020-12-18T12:51:46.665-07:00Mikketz 2020 - Why Am I Doing This?<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">This week, we
are faced with a story of incredible emotion and power. Joseph, now viceroy of </span><st1:place style="font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;" w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Egypt</st1:country-region></st1:place><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">,
is visited by his brothers. He recognises them, but they do not recognise him.
He immediately sets upon them, accusing them of being spies, and they plead
their innocence. He puts his own brothers in jail for a few days and then
commands them to get Benjamin, the youngest surviving brother as far as they
are concerned, from home. They start to regret what they did to Joseph, because
they feel they are being punished for what they did to him. Joseph orders that
their bags are filled with the money that they had previously paid for their
rations, and the brother are terrified. When they return to Jacob, he tells
them that as honest men they should return the money. Moreover, he sends them
back with Benjamin, despite the pain that it causes him. The brothers
immediately admit that there must have been a financial mistake, and they offer
to repay the money that was erroneously returned to them. Seeing his brothers
all together again clearly upsets Joseph terribly, but he nonetheless offers
them food. When they leave in the morning, Joseph’s cup has been placed in
Benjamin’s sack without him knowing. When his guards catch up with the brothers
they protest – why would innocent men who returned money that was not theirs
then go and steal a goblet? They lower their bags, Benjamin’s bag has the
goblet inside, and the brothers are distraught. The brothers throw themselves
on the ground before Joseph and beg for mercy for Benjamin.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">There is a
tremendous amount of pain apparent in the story, most of it created by Joseph’s
bizarre plots. So why does he do it? Why cause so much pain to his brothers, to
his father, and to himself? Why not just tell his brothers straight away that
he is the brother they thought was dead? There are a number of possible
answers. The medieval commentator Radak says that he causes pain to his
brothers because he wants to punish them for what they did to him. While that
would be a very human response, Abravanel and other commentators point out that
such a response would not justify the pain caused to his aging father. Other
commentators suggest that the pain caused to his father by tearing Benjamin
away from him was necessary because he was afraid the brothers might have
killed Benjamin too, and he needed to see him alive before revealing himself.
Some commentaries suggest that Joseph creates these painful situations in order
to have the dream of his brothers bowing to him to be fulfilled, although that
seems particularly cruel to me. The most common commentary is that he wanted to
give them the opportunity to truly repent of what they did to him, so that he
could then trust them and engage in a relationship with them again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 153.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Rabbi Ismar
Shorsch, Principal Emeritus of the Jewish Theological Seminary, holds that
Joseph’s scheme is designed to ensure true repentance in his brothers (<a href="http://www.jtsa.edu/community/parashah/archives/5764/mikketz.shtml"><span style="color: black;">http://www.jtsa.edu/community/parashah/archives/5764/mikketz.shtml</span></a>).
He quotes Maimonides who asks, “What is complete repentance? When we are
confronted with a situation in which we previously sinned and could do so
again, but this time we desist not out of fear or weakness but because we have
repented. An example: a man has relations with a woman in violation of the
Torah. Sometime later he finds himself alone with her again in the same place
with ardor and virility undiminished. However, this time he departs without the
slightest impropriety. Such a person has attained the level of complete
repentance (<em>Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah</em> 2:1; My translation).” In
other words, Maimonides holds that a person has fully repented when they could
repeat the error but do not – in his example, same time, same place, same
lovely lady.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">According to Shorsch, Joseph completely
recreates a situation where the brothers could get rid of their youngest
brother and get away with it. Clearly, Benjamin had been caught red-handed. The
brothers could have left him as an eternal slave to Joseph and they would have
been completely in the right to so do. Why might they have done such a thing?
Because now Benjamin was the favoured son, just as Joseph was before him. So to
Shorsch, Joseph sets up the system to see if the brothers would do to Benjamin
what they did to him – resent the favour their father showed, and take it out
on the brother, effectively barring him from ever returning to the family.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But they
don’t. And they don’t because, according to Shorsch, to Samson Raphael Hirsch
and others, the brothers have completely atoned of their sin against Joseph.
But is that really why the brothers don’t leave Benjamin behind? At the risk of
criticising the view of a scholar significantly more learned than myself, Shorsch
seems to neglect two important elements. The first is that the brothers have
sworn to return Benjamin to Jacob and regardless of whether or not his arrest
were justifiable, they would suffer consequences for not returning him.
Secondly, Shorsch neglects complex human emotions. As Rabbi Jonathan Kraus
suggests (<a href="http://ma002.urj.net/dtmikketz96.html"><span style="color: black;">http://ma002.urj.net/dtmikketz96.html</span></a>), Joseph
is probably awash with an array of complex emotions. Part of him probably does
want to get back at his brothers and cause them pain, simply because it
re-establishes power in Joseph’s mind. Part of him probably is very scared that
they brothers might have killed Benjamin. And part of him probably does want to
see reconciliation, but knows that can only happen when he’s sure his brothers
regret throwing him into a pit. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 153.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And it is the
complex array of emotions that rush through Joseph that speaks to us all,
because we’re often faced with situations where emotion gets the better of us,
where we find ourselves unsure why we’re doing what we’re doing. Times when we
think we’re acting for one reason, but in fact later realise we were deluding
ourselves, and had an entirely different motivation. I think the power of this
story is its inherent humanity, its ability to strip us bare as complex
individuals with many motives and motivations. And I think reading the story,
we’re compelled to search ourselves. Instead of merely asking why Joseph
subjects his family to so much <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">tzuras</i>,
we have to ask ourselves how we might have behaved. How do we behave in our
daily lives? In fact, it probably asks us one of the most probing questions of
all, “Why am I doing this?” I think this is the question we need to take with
us during the week, posed to us by the Joseph narrative. Not to obsess, but to
occasionally reflect on whatever it is we’re doing, and ask, “Why am I doing
this?” That is the question that grounds us in reality, that asks us what we’re
doing and where we’re going, and makes us much more present with the world, and
that can only be good. So this week, may it be that we all find time to stop
and ask ourselves the question that perhaps Joseph should have been asking of
himself, “Why am I doing this?” and let it be that the answers are good ones.
Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-54378208685320976322020-12-11T15:58:00.006-07:002020-12-11T15:58:47.482-07:00How to light the Lamps<p> <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14pt;">A story from Chabad: R. </span><span class="glossaryitem" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14pt;">Joseph</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span class="glossaryitem" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14pt;">Isaac</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14pt;"> Schneerson once recalled a thought-provoking
conversation between his father and predecessor, R. Sholom Dov-Ber, and a chassid,
a righteous Jew.</span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">The Chassid asked: "<span class="glossaryitem">Rebbe</span>,
what is a Chassid?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">R. Sholom Dov-Ber answered: "A Chassid is a
street-lamp-lighter. A street-lamp-lighter has a pole with fire. He knows that
the fire is not his own, and he goes around lighting all lamps on his
route."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">The Chassid asked: "But what if the lamp is in a desolate
wilderness?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">The Rebbe answered: "Then, too, one must light it. Let it be
noted that there is a wilderness, and let the wilderness feel ashamed before
the light."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">"But what if the lamp is in the midst of a sea?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Then one must take off the clothes, jump into the water and
light it there!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">"And that is a Chassid?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">The Rebbe thought for a long moment and then said: "Yes, *that*
is a Chassid."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">The Chassid continued:"Rebbe, I see no lamps!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">"That is because you are not a street-lamp-lighter."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">"How does one become such?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">The Rebbe replied: "One must avoid evil. When beginning with
oneself, cleansing oneself, becoming more refined, then one sees the lamp of
the other. When, Heaven forbid, one is crude, then one sees but crudeness; but
when himself noble, one sees nobility."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 14.0pt;">When the his son recounted this conversation, his son added: The
lamps are there, but they need to be lit. It is written, "The soul of man
is a lamp of <span class="glossaryitem">God</span>" (<a href="https://www.chabad.org/16391#v27">Proverbs 20:27)</a>, and it is also
written, "A <span class="glossaryitem">mitzvah</span> is a lamp
and the <span class="glossaryitem">Torah</span> is light" (<a href="https://www.chabad.org/16377#v23">Proverbs 6:23)</a>. A Chassid is someone
who puts their personal affairs aside and goes around lighting up the souls of
Jews with the light of Torah and <span class="glossaryitem">mitzvot</span>.
Jewish souls are in readiness to be lit. Sometimes they are around the corner.
Sometimes they are in a wilderness or at sea. But there must be someone who
disregards personal comforts and conveniences and goes out to put a light to
these lamps. That is the function of a true Chassid.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">The darkness of winter need not be terrifying, it can
be an exciting opportunity. Where there is spiritual darkness, we can bring
light. Where there is despair, we can bring hope. Where there is fear, we can
bring courage. The sacred task of the Jew is to be a lamplighter, an igniter of
souls. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">But, are we really meant to disregard personal comfort
and convenience in order to go round igniting the souls of others? To many of
us who live comfortable lives, that doesn’t sound very appealing. More than
that, if the sacred task of the righteous Jew is to go round igniting the souls
of others, does that mean that if we don’t do that, or can’t do that, then we’re
not very good Jews? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I suspect that many people today feel like their light
isn’t worth shining to the rest of the world. Perhaps they feel fragile, like a
delicate little candle ready to be extinguished at any moment by the lightest
breeze, so we keep a flame burning within, but are afraid to show it for fear
of being accused of zealotry or for fear of it being extinguished. But while
the message of this story is very powerful, I think it misses an essential
element, which is that of community. We’re not a lone candle, we’re a Chanukiah
of candles. It’s not just the case that a little light dispels a lot of
darkness, although that it obviously true. In fact, a lot of light, shining
together, radiating warmth, dispels even more darkness. So, where is may have once
been true that the chassid needed to forgo everything and rush off alone into
the wilderness to ignite souls, we do things differently. Instead of lone
lamplighters, we aim to become a community of lamplighters. We turn within
before we turn without. We add candles to the Chanukiah just as we try to add
people to a warm, loving community. We ignite each other’s souls, we help those
around us burn as bright as they can, before scurrying through the dark. As a
community, we shine with a warmth and a radiance that could never be matched by
one of us alone, and then together we go out into the world and light the souls
of others.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">May God help ignite our own souls as individuals and
as a community so that we may burn ever brighter each and every day, and let us
say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-11923154093033576282020-11-27T14:42:00.005-07:002020-11-27T14:42:41.821-07:00A Collection of Thanksgiving Prayers<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">A Thanksgiving Psalm, adapted from the original by
Alan Cook</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hodu l’Adonai ki tov; ki l’olam chasdo<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">O give thanks to the One
Who is good Whose love is everlasting May those who call upon the Eternal God give
thanks for many blessings bestowed and received. May those who call upon the
Earth Mother, the power of nature, find beauty and inspiration in the wonders
of the world around us and the resiliency of the human spirit. Give thanks for Tewa,
Apache and Navajo who settled and sanctified this land, who nurtured its
abundance, whose indelible imprint is still visible on this land, whose stories
and prayers and songs still reverberate in the wind.… Give thanks for the
elders who connect us to our past. Give thanks for the children who guide us
toward our future. Give thanks for Black and Latinx individuals, for those of
Asian background and those of mixed racial identities. Give thanks for White
folks. Give thanks for the opportunity and the necessity to live together, to
work together, to build together. Give thanks for queer and straight, for trans
and bi. Give thanks for the fact that love is love and knows no bounds. Give
thanks for opportunities for every individual to know and show their true
selves. Give thanks for the understandings borne out of scientific research in
concert with the understandings derived from our faithful convictions - may
they guide us toward unfolding the mysteries and majesty of our world, securing
our own health and welfare and the well-being of our planet. Give thanks for
the conviction that even if ideologies divide us, our common humanity can unite
us. Give thanks for the imperative handed down to us by our religious
traditions: To love our neighbors just as we love ourselves. Give thanks for
the tools we have been given to build bridges, to share in dialogue, to laugh
and weep and argue and struggle and plot and plan and solve life’s challenges
together. Baruch Ata Adonai, she-natan lanu hizdamnut l’taken et ha-olam.
Blessed is the One who has given us the opportunity, responsibility, and
challenge, to work with one another to bring wholeness to our world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
Thanksgiving Prayer by </span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Rabbi
Naomi Levy</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
the laughter of the children,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
my own life breath,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
the abundance of food on this table,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
the ones who prepared this sumptuous feast,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
the roof over our heads,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
clothes on our backs,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
our health,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And
our wealth of blessings,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
this opportunity to celebrate with family and friends,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
the freedom to pray these words<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Without
fear,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
any language,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
any faith,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
this great country,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Whose
landscape is as vast and beautiful as her inhabitants.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank
You, God, for giving us all these. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Adapted
from MODIM ANACHNU LACH – We are Grateful to You, by Rabbi Adam Stock Spilker<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
are grateful, Adonai, even in this time that challenges us. We give thanks for
the food before us and all the people who brought it forth from the land, from
seed to harvest to the grocery store, and the people who prepared it into our
meal.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Before
we eat, we take a deep breath as we focus on all our blessings.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
are grateful for life. We are aware how fragile it can be. We mourn those who
have died in our community and world from the pandemic. We pray for healing for
those who are now ill.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
are grateful for the medical professionals and front-line workers who serve our
community. We will do our part to change our behaviors, to love our neighbors
and ourselves as we are mindful to wash hands, physically distance, and wear
masks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
grieve those who are not with us today. How we wished to celebrate in person!
We pray that the end of this struggle is in sight and once again there will be
a time for embracing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">During
this period of Thanksgiving, we are grateful for the scientists working on
vaccines to help bring that day soon and speedily. Until then, may we be
patient and resilient with hearts open to gratitude. With that spirit, may we
give tzedakah generously to those in need and reach out to those alone. Adonai,
help us be fully aware of our gifts to make this world more whole, more just,
and more loving.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Adapted
from Appreciation Amidst Pandemic: A Thanksgiving Prayer During COVID-19, by Rabbi David Dine Wirtschafter<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">————-<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anchunu lach, Grateful are we to all those whose have helped us to persevere
through this crisis.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
doctors and nurses continuing to treat their patients,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
mental and behavioral health professionals continuing to offer comfort and
encouragement,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach..<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
teachers and professors continuing to offer instruction,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
first responders continuing to rush to our aid,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
essential workers continuing to put food on our tables,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
nursing home employees and care givers continuing to tend to the elderly and
infirm,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
the unemployed and underemployed continuing to help their families and
communities,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
family and friends continuing to inquire about us,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
continuing to see and hear one another remotely until we can gather in person,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Modim
anachnu lach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Baruch
ata, Adonai, hatov shimcha ul’cha na-eh l’hodot.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Blessed
are You, Adonai, Your name inspires goodness and Your caring deserves our
thanks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">———<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-9342819019161160872020-11-20T16:05:00.005-07:002020-11-20T19:36:58.888-07:00A Drug of Life or Death - Tol'dot Sermon 2020<p><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">The Book of Ecclesiastes
tells us that there is nothing new under the sun, meaning that even though the
specific details may be different, there are recurring themes throughout the
history of humanity. One theme, which in our world is hard to appreciate, but
is getting much easier to appreciate with every passing day, is that we are
entirely dependent on the accessibility of water. The ability to control water
to the point that clean, running water, sometimes heated, is available “on tap”
is nothing short of miraculous. Our planet is covered in water, although most
of it is completely undrinkable, either because it is too salty, or too
polluted.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">In this week’s sidrah, we read
of the ever-human need to dig for water, and the tensions that finding water
can create. Just as around the world governments are wising up to the fact that
the great number of military conflicts in the future will be simply fought over
water, so too in our sidrah there is strife as soon as water is found.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">Water, it should be noted,
is one of the most prominent metaphors for Torah. Water immediately flows to
the lowest place, just as Torah flows toward those who are low of spirit, that
is, those who are humble. Water refreshes and nourishes, just as Torah
refreshes and nourishes. Life is impossible without water, and life for a Jew is
impossible without Torah. But if we read this sidrah metaphorically, then,
there is a very challenging message for us all. As we dig for Torah, as we
explore the depths of Torah, we’re going to come into conflict. We’re going to
struggle over the Torah that others have found. So, can Torah ever be
destructive? Can Torah damage us?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 150%;">Interestingly, there is a
text in the Talmud that suggests that it is possible. It takes the quotation that
is sung as we lift the Torah scroll before or after reading it (depending on
your custom) – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">vezot hatorah asher <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">sam</b> moshe lifnei b’nei yisrael</i>,
which means, “this is the Torah that Moses <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">placed</b>
before Israel.” Now the Rabbis enjoyed a good play on words whenever they could
to try to explore new meanings of the text. They noticed that the word for
“placed”, which is Hebrew is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sam</i>, is
also the word for drug. As a result…</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">“Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: What is the
meaning of that which is written: <span style="font-variant: small-caps;">and
this is the torah that moses placed (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sam</i>)</span>
(Deut. 4:44)? If one is deserving, it becomes a drug (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sam</i>) of life to him. If one is not deserving, it becomes a drug of
death to him. And this is similar to that which Rava said: Where one uses it skillfully,
it is a drug of life, where one uses it unskillfully; it is a drug of death.” (Talmud
Bavli: Yoma 72b)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">This is really quite a remarkable passage.
It’s not that studying too much Torah is bad for you socially, but that if one
is undeserving, or if one uses it unskillfully, then it is a drug of death.
What does this mean? Is it an immediate poison that kills on the spot? Dramatic
as that may be, it’s clearly not that. So in what way could Torah be a drug of
death? This question is made even harder when we think about the first point,
that if one is deserving, or if one uses Torah skillfully, then it becomes a
drug of life. What is a drug of life?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">It’s possible that it’s talking about
intoxication. Intoxication can be a good thing, or it can be a bad thing.
Intoxication is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mitzvah</i> on Purim,
for example, because it lifts the heart and helps us enjoy the world.
Intoxication can go too far, however, and can lead us to a very dark place,
wherein we lose ourselves. But as nice as that interpretation might be, why not
just say that? Why instead talk of life and death?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">Perhaps it’s talking about addiction, in
this case, the addiction of burying oneself in books to the exclusion of all
else. In one famous narrative, the Dubner Maggid believes he is totally righteous,
until his teacher takes him outside into the marketplace away from the
protection of his books. His teacher then challenges him to be just as pious as
he was when he was addicted to his books. In that reading, Torah could be a
drug of life when it helps us and others live fully but becomes a drug of death
when it leads us to arrogance or to isolation.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">Perhaps this commentary is a warning to
Jewish leaders – when Moses put Torah in front of the Israelites, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how</i> he put it was more important than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what</i> he put in front of them. Perhaps
it’s all about presentation. Jewish leaders can put Torah over to their
communities in a way that forms an enjoyable habit for them, or they can put it
over in such a way that it dulls their senses and their only addiction is to
stay away from it, therefore dying spiritually. Maybe this, like much of
Talmud, is a text from rabbis to other rabbis. Maybe it’s saying, “Present the
Torah well and you’ll get people hooked, and their spiritual life will grow.
BUT, if you put Torah in front of the community and don’t do it well, then you
will turn people away, and they will die spiritually.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">There is another text which supports this
theory. Pirke Avot tells teachers to watch their words lest their students
swallow them up and die. The similarity in these two texts between a “pill” and
“swallowing” can’t be avoided. These two texts seem to be telling Jewish
leaders that the spiritual life or spiritual death of their community might
heavily depend on their interpretation and particularly their mode of presentation
of Torah. For a Rabbi, that is rather terrifying. Will the next words I utter
cause the spiritual death of the community? As if I needed more pressure in my work!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">It was our sidrah that gave me some comfort, and helped me
connect this thought to my opening theme. We dig for water because everyone is
thirsty. Some people like sparkling water, some still. Similarly, we all need
Torah, but we need it presented to us in a way that is palatable. There is no
one way to present Torah that will be palatable to everyone. One person’s drug
of life is potentially another’s drug of death. What’s important is to create a
community where everyone digs for water. It’s not the words themselves, but the
way we sustain people. Rabbis need to keep serving up water in differing forms,
some of which people will like, some of which they won’t. But what is important
is to create a community where everyone digs for water together. Today’s Rabbi
isn’t a firehose that sprays people with as much Torah as possible – they’re a map
to water reserves.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">The healthiest Jewish community is one which continually
explores God’s Word and sips it and struggles with it in a mutually
affectionate way. We can disagree, but those disagreements don’t need to damage
us because those disagreements are just the same as preferring still or
sparkling water. Actually, such disagreements help us grow as a community as we
learn to see the world from differing perspectives. May our learning come to be
a drug of life, may it sustain us and bring us sustenance and joy, and let us
say, Amen.<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-25023427929750059852020-11-13T16:08:00.001-07:002020-11-13T16:08:03.872-07:00Hearing and Listening (Chayye Sarah)<p><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">When a word or phrase occurs twice in a sidrah, it
gives us an opportunity to comment on it. When it occurs six times within the
space of ten verses in a sedrah, it </span><i style="font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">demands</i><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">
attention. This word, meaning “Hear us” or “hear me” is in Hebrew “She’ma’einu,”
Shema’eini” and “Shema’uni.” Our Torah portion for this week focusses on truly
hearing the other.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">The first time we hear this phrase is when the
children of Heth invite Abraham to pick any burial place for Sarah. In
response, Abraham mentions the phrase as he asks for the cave of Ephron the
Hittite. As he hears this, Ephron mentions the word in inviting Abraham to take
the cave. Abraham offers to pay, using this word. Finally, in his response
Ephron asks Abraham once again to hear him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">At no other time in the Torah is there a negotiation
anything like this. Looking carefully at the text, it seems as though Ephron is
being extremely generous when he offers the cave to Abraham, but not everything
is as it seems. All the Hittites are gathered together and the leader announces
that Abraham can take any cave he wants. Abraham picks the cave of Ephron. We
can now read the text in two ways at this point. One has Ephron the Hittite
extremely frustrated at his land being chosen, the other that he wants to give
it away but when suddenly faced with losing it, realizes how valuable it is to
him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">In the first reading, Ephron is frustrated but he has
to act magnanimously in front of everyone else. His people had already declared
that Abraham could take any land he wanted, and Ephron probably agreed with
that on the assumption that it would be someone else’s land. When his land is
selected, he doesn’t want to give it up. Abraham senses that Ephron is unhappy
and offers to pay him money, but Ephron could not possibly accept money in
front of his people who offered his cave for nothing! So he could have said to
Abraham “What’s a piece of land to me? Feh! It’s nothing, have it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But instead he says, “What is a piece of land
worth 400 shekels (wink, wink) to me?” Abraham hears the words behind the
spoken words, and pays the man the 400 shekels.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">In the second reading, Ephron is initially willing in
theory to give up his ancestral land but at the point when he has to let go of
it, suddenly his attachment to the land – perhaps all his family memories - come
flooding back. Suddenly, he sees himself impoverished, he realizes what has
value in his life and instead of giving it away, he hesitates, and needs to be
convinced financially.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">What’s happening in the first reading? People are
saying things without actually saying them. In English we might differentiate
between people <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hearing</i> and people <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">listening</i>, in Biblical Hebrew the
differentiation is made by the inclusion or exclusion of this verb. To hear
something is passive, but to listen to something requires effort. We have a
story in which people are not only hearing the words, but also listening to the
messages behind the words. When the Hittites offer Abraham a field for nothing,
he knows that taking the land for free means that they can claim it back at any
point, so he hears the words behind the words, and offers money instead to
ensure it is his land forever. Now that Abraham is offering money, though,
Ephron cannot openly say that he wants the money being offered, but he can
spell out the price that the land should be bought for and leave it up to
Abraham to give him the money or not.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">For me, one very powerful message of this sidrah is
that we all have a responsibility to listen to the words behind what people are
saying – to try to find our way to the root of what is being said. But
conversely, it also puts responsibility on us every time we speak – that we
need to make sure that the words that we say really reflect the feelings we
mean. And that is why at the end of the Amidah we pray to God to make the words
of our mouths, and the meditations of our hearts, be acceptable to God – in
other words, may the words of our mouths and the thoughts in our hearts always
be one, and always be Godly.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">At the same time, though, when it comes to having
other people hear us, even if our words are totally consistent with what we’re
thinking, there is still potential for confusion. The same word or phrase can
mean very different things to differing people. One example which amuses me is
the phrase “quite nice.” In America, when a person says that it’s a compliment,
but in Britain when a person says that it’s a negative qualifier – the American
“quite nice” is much more positive than the British “quite nice!” In Pirkei
Avot (1:11), Avtalyon warns scholars to be careful of their words lest their
students misunderstand and be led astray. When teaching halakha, that’s much easier
than when having a conversation with someone. In negotiations such as the purchase
of the Cave of Machpelah, everyone needs to be sure that they understand each
other, hence the repetition of “Hear me” and “hear us” throughout the negotiation.
But just saying that isn’t really enough because of how differently people hear
words. Real conversation involves more listening than it does speaking. It involves
listening to our own words to make sure they mean what we want them to, it
means listening to what other people are saying, it involves listening to how
our own words are received and it means listening to the words behind the words
that other people say. This is why, according to Jewish tradition, we have two
ears and one mouth – because we should be listening far more than we should be
speaking.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;">This Shabbat, then, let’s commit ourselves to really listening.
Listening to the words of our heart and ensuring that they synchronize with the
words of our mouth. Listening to the words expressed by others, and the words
within the heart of others. And let us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-13713787895676820872020-11-06T16:54:00.003-07:002020-11-06T20:02:48.763-07:00Authoritarian America and How to Avoid It - a post-2020 election sermon<p><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">A number of years ago, a cartoon in the New York Times
by Paul Noth has a flock of sheep staring at a billboard for a political
candidate. The picture of the candidate, who is a wolf, lies next to text
saying, “I am going to eat you.” One of the sheep looking at it turns to
another sheep and says, “He tells it like it is.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIRZR0wbiVjo4F2xW8nsoIE6sfM02SX-llQ-1kbp2tmkEvup1FvL18u1U2-hduNY-0znoqYHvZEdLmcwWjZ_m2SvYT_cJ7Kju2gF3xXzdcu7plRdOLdNqu8Mr0eqcdnV5E-g2QNGfCb8t/s900/he-tells-it-like-it-is-paul-noth.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="900" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIRZR0wbiVjo4F2xW8nsoIE6sfM02SX-llQ-1kbp2tmkEvup1FvL18u1U2-hduNY-0znoqYHvZEdLmcwWjZ_m2SvYT_cJ7Kju2gF3xXzdcu7plRdOLdNqu8Mr0eqcdnV5E-g2QNGfCb8t/s320/he-tells-it-like-it-is-paul-noth.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">Many members of this community have publicly expressed shock and dismay
that the election result wasn’t a landslide for Joe Biden. They look at the
last four years and despair that over sixty million people could vote for four
more years of the same. They thought that the 2016 election was an aberration,
that Donald Trump was elected because Hillary Clinton arrogantly didn’t visit
key states, because she called half the electorate a basket of deplorables,
because the FBI dropped a bombshell only days before the election or because
Russia hacked the election. These things all certainly contributed, but this
most recent election has seemingly confirmed that which many people believe –
that there has for a long time been an authoritarian, anti-democratic movement
in this country that continues to grow in strength. Despite believing that it
had defeated authoritarianism once and for all in the 1940s with the military
defeat of Nazism, this recent election is a rude awakening to many liberal
Americans that authoritarianism is on the rise in America, and despite the fact
that its rise to prominence has seemingly been temporarily halted, unless we
address its root causes, it has the potential to overwhelm this country in the
future.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">The start of the 2006 book American Fascists – the Christian Right and the
War on America, by Chris Hedges, contains an essay by Umberto Eco called
“Eternal Fascism: Fourteen Ways of Looking at a Blackshirt.” Of the fourteen
ways that Eco explains, at least seven could be applied to the Trump administration.
To be clear, I am not saying that the 45<sup>th</sup> President of the United
States was a fascist – all experts on fascism agree that that’s not true,
despite a growing number of similarities. I’m not saying that the tens of
millions of people who voted for him are fascists – of course they aren’t. I am
saying, though, that what we have seen over the last five years by Donald Trump’s
campaign and subsequent administration, culminating in this week’s denial of
the democratic process by a sitting President, has been clearly authoritarian
and has bordered dangerously close to fascism, and that we need to understand
where this comes from in order to avoid it in the future.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">In Umberto Eco’s essay, the reliance of tradition and the fact that there
can be no advancement of learning is the first way that leads to fascism, and we
have seen that in recent years by the open and consistent refutation of science
not only regarding climate change but also regarding the current pandemic. The
second way that leads to fascism is the rejection of modernism and the
embracing of irrationalism, as made evident by the explosive growth in QAnon
followers, one of whom has now just been elected to serve in Congress. The
third way is similar – the belief that thinking is a form of emasculation and
that the intellectual world cannot be trusted. We saw that in the President talking
about climate scientists following political agendas. The fourth way is the
belief that disagreement is treason. We have certainly seen in the last four
years the rejection of valid peaceful protests and the vilification of
protestors such as Colin Kaepernick as un-American or even anti-American. Eco
says that for the fascist disagreement is a sign of diversity but “the first
appeal of a fascist or prematurely fascist movement is an appeal against the
intruders.” Again, we have openly seen the Trump administration try everything
they could to block what they saw as intruders from Muslim countries. It is
points 6 and 7 in that essay that I believe are essential to understanding this
election. Eco says “Ur-Fascism derives from individual or social frustration.
That is why one of the most typical features of the historical fascism was the <i>appeal
to a frustrated middle class</i>, a class suffering from an economic crisis or
feelings of political humiliation, and frightened by the pressure of lower
social groups.” When members of our community don’t understand why tens of
millions of people could vote for Trump, it’s very possibly because they don’t
understand the depth of despair and feelings of futility felt by vast swathes
of people in this country whose jobs were either automated or outsourced to
other countries by corporations who were supported by the political class on
both sides of the aisle. When Trump promised to drain the swamp, that promise
wasn’t against all forms of corruption – clearly - but specifically against the
corruption that brought poverty to predominantly white manufacturing workers.
And when those jobs were outsourced who did they go to? To people of color
worldwide. This is the direct consequence of free trade agreements that say
that they’re opening up markets but are actually locking individuals worldwide
into a form of contemporary serfdom by only providing employment to those who
pay the least and who provide the least protection for the workers and their
environment (see Hedges, p.136). This capitalistic global race to the bottom
has devastated vast areas of America and left countless millions of Americans
feeling betrayed by the political class, the intellectuals who failed to make
life better for the electorate and who didn’t suffer from the global recession
as they did. Despair turned to rage, and when white American jobs went to
people of color abroad, that rage turned into overt racism. Despite the
pandemic having killed nearly a quarter of a million Americans in less than a
year, despite the clear evidence of systemic racism, despite the continued
subversion of the democratic process, despite pending environmental
catastrophe, still, despite all those things, the leading issue for voters in
this election was overwhelmingly the economy. When you cannot feed your family,
when you cannot afford the payments on your home, when you cannot afford your
healthcare, then the issues of race that affect black people in cities miles
away and the issues of environment that affect polar bears in the arctic become
irrelevant to an enormous number of voters. That is the inevitable
manifestation of the radical individualism of American society that defines the
American dream as personal, and not communal, success, as well as the
inevitable product of decades of the erosion of the economic safety nets that
are essential to so many Americans.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">Umberto Eco adds that “to people who feel deprived of a clear social
identity, Ur-Fascism says that their only privilege is the most common one, to
be born in the same country. This is the origin of nationalism. Besides, the
only ones who can provide identity to the nation are its enemies. Thus at the
root of the Ur-Fascist psychology there is the <i>obsession with a plot</i>,
possibly an international one. The followers must feel besieged.” Think of the
so-called War on Christmas, the claims of Christian persecution in America, the
conspiracy theories, the unsubstantiated claims of voter fraud even four years
ago when trump won the election (!), the neo-Nazis in Charlottesville chanting
“the Jews will not replace us,” the claims of paid crisis actors and paid
protestors, the need to constantly talk of the fake news media plotting to undo
the Presidency. To those invested in the narrative of a subversive plot, the
impeachment of Donald Trump only became more proof that there was a plot
against him and his supporters. Regardless of clear evidence of impropriety,
the act of impeachment reinforced the narrative of persecution and thus
profoundly strengthened the base for this election. Why do so many people buy
into that plot, into that feeling of persecution? Because modernity has
undermined the social structures upon which such people hang their psychological
existence. In that world view, there are men and women and there’s nothing in
between. The dismantling of basic concepts of gender has a huge effect on
patriarchal America because it leaves the men in particular feeling totally
lost and unable to identify themselves. They claim to be worried about physical
violence in bathroom stalls by transgender individuals despite no evidence of that
happening but it’s not physical violence that they actually fear, it’s violence
to their patriarchal norms. It’s violence to everything their society is based
on. They fear psychological violence from modernity, and vote against it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">Those patriarchal norms are constantly reinforced in this country by the
evangelical right-wing church whose most prominent leaders have since the
beginning of this election campaign spewed the most shocking bile as they
concoct sinister plot after sinister plot by the liberals. The fundamentalist
church has for decades been working to infiltrate the American political scene,
and has unquestionably succeeded in its mission because it knew that if
modernity continued, it would be rendered irrelevant. The lavish lifestyles of
its clergy would have to come to an end. It has, therefore, seized upon the
dismantling of patriarchal norms by the secular state – the encouragement for
women to work and to have their own voice, the permission for same-sex
marriage, the permission for transgender surgery, and more – and reframed them
as a war against God Himself – the source of ultimate morality. It has provided
comfort to countless millions whose traditional views were being dismantled, by
framing those who would dismantle them as working for the Devil. And nowhere
has that strategy been more successful than in the abortion debate, where it
has succeeded in framing the discussion to be about when life begins as opposed
to when personhood begins. It has thus been able to convince millions of people
that abortion is murder and that the woman who carries the fetus loses all
right to her body as soon as she becomes pregnant because she is now a vessel
for another person and not a person in her own right. The deliberate confusion
of life with personhood is why we have repeatedly heard the accusation of
Democrats being “baby killers” or “murderers,” especially in recent months. It
is because where the secular state views morality as an ongoing democratic
process that is determined at the ballot box, the religious fundamentalist
refers to Scripture for morality and claims that it is unchanging. In that
claim, they totally reject the post-modern concept that every text exists in
relationship to its reader and that everything is therefore interpretation. No
amount of relativity, or evolution of thought, may come into this mindset –
there is simply truth and lie. This conflict of religious fundamentalism against
the secular state in this country claimed an important public win for the
fundamentalists in the Scopes Trial of 1925 in which a high school teacher,
John Scopes, was found guilty of teaching evolution despite Tennessee’s Butler
Act which specifically prohibited it. Although the verdict was overturned on a
technicality, the win was empowering for religious fundamentalists in America.
They have for a hundred years since then deliberately reached out with their
monolithic truth claims to the economically disenfranchised and socially
displaced, they have comforted those people by framing their malaise as
persecution by globalist elites – read Jews – who do not care for them, and they
have helped form a mass social identity of opposition to democracy which has
failed the blue-collar masses. Just as that religious fundamentalism is deeply
patriarchal and anti-democratic within its own community, so too it manifests
itself in anti-democratic norms. Thus, denying Merrick Garland a place on the
Supreme Court or denying the validity of an election becomes in their eyes not
only a moral position, but a Divinely supported position. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">There is another narrative that must be included in any analysis of this
election, which is the narrative of race. To millions of white Americans,
totally removed from the reality of life for African Americans and Native
Americans in particular, there is no racism in America. To them, racism was segregation
and that was decades ago. In their minds, all that holds African-Americans back
is their failure to manifest their own success – as we saw recently by Jared
Kushner’s extraordinary statement that his father-in-law can’t want African-Americans
to be successful more than they do. In that way of thinking, their lack of
success is nothing to do with systemically racist structures but is their own
fault. To such people who have no experience of systemic racism, it doesn’t
exist. In fact, many of those white Americans genuinely blame President Obama
for bringing racism back where, as far as they believed, it had been resolved! The
dismantling of the American dream narrative, which was always a white
narrative, coupled with the dismantling of other social narratives upon which
so many white Americans had hung their own identities, had to be rejected for
their own mental wellbeing. Segregation is not something from the distant past,
though – at least one member of our community was arrested for sitting at a
lunch counter with a black man. We can see how prevalent racism is in the
so-called justice system in this country. We see it in employment figures. We
see it in how devastating the pandemic has been in African American and Native
American communities compared with the white population. But for those who have
no contact with such things, the Black Lives Matter movement becomes just another
attempt to undermine the profoundly American narrative of white normalcy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">It is important to clarify that I am in no way saying that everyone who
voted for Trump in this election is an economically marginalized, distrusting,
racist, white blue-collar Christian fundamentalist. I am absolutely not saying
that. There are a multitude of reasons why people in this country vote for
candidates from differing perspectives on gun control to voting rights to taxation
to regulation and more. But what I am saying is that a now sizeable percentage
of the American electorate is, indeed, made up of economically marginalized,
authority-distrusting, white blue-collar citizens who unite with a massive
voting bloc of misogynistic, democracy-denying, modernity-refuting Christian
fundamentalists. Indeed, Christian evangelicals make up nearly 20% of the American
electorate, and 75% of them voted for Trump this time. These are people who unite
behind charismatic white, straight male figures. Together, they intimidate
through fear of spiritual or physical violence, which is the hallmark of fascism.
Indeed, this united group fan the flames of physical violence with chants of
locking up opponents, with failing to condemn racial violence, and then turn to
an authoritarian figure to resolve it through draconian law-and-order measures,
like whisking away civilians in unmarked vans, or praising armed nationalists
who walk the streets after civil unrest. They do everything they can to “own
the libs” because the ultimate goal is the suppression of the new social
narrative. They therefore even support what they know to be open lies as an act
of defiance against the new social narrative and as a way to bring about a
transformed American society that returns them to the time when they alone felt
valued, which almost always meant privileged. Make American Great Again is the
clarion call of this movement. From a logical perspective, Make America Great Again
Again - a call which was made at least twice in this election campaign - is
clearly nonsensical. But it actually reveals the deep insecurity of so many Americans
who have lost their economic and social privilege and who will do anything they
can to get it back. As Tom Nichols, author of The Death of Expertise, wrote two
days ago, “It’s clear now that far too many of Trump’s voters don’t care about
policy, decency, or saving our democracy. They care about power.” As Hadley Freeman
recently wrote of Trump, “His white working-class supporters saw in him their
own aggrievement at not being accepted by elites who rigged the game; [and] the
elites saw a fellow plutocrat who would protect their fortunes.” She quotes John
W Dean and Bob Altemeyer’s book “Authoritarian Nightmare: Trump and his
Followers” in saying that there is no defeating Trumpism as so many people
thought might happen in this election. There is no defeating Trumpism because
it doesn’t exist – it’s not a consistent thought pattern. It is, she says,
nothing more than a mere reflection of his followers and their own
psychological predispositions. “They look at him,” she says, “and see what they
want to see: themselves.” The impulse to authoritarianism, to control, to
power, will never be fully slain because it is an all-too human impulse.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">Donald Trump is just one head of the hydra. Defeating Donald Trump at the
ballot box won’t end the authoritarian impulses of a growing number of despairing
people in the American electorate, just as defeating Hitler militarily didn’t
end Nazism as an ideology. Without constant care, democracy can easily slip toward
hero-worship and authoritariansm, something the American electorate is now only
just realizing. Authoritarianism isn’t timebound, and it is only suppressed,
never fully defeated. When a crass twice-time divorced man who openly brags
about sexually assaulting women and who cannot even quote from the Bible during
interviews is held aloft by white evangelicals as the second Divine incarnation,
the underlying issue for that vast section of the American electorate is not
religious – it is about power… white male-dominated hierarchical power with
Divine mandate. It is about the external threat to that power perpetuated in a narrative
of persecution that can only be redeemed by a savior figure. The dismantling of
that narrative is therefore crucial to the continued existence of American
democracy.<span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"> </span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="background: white; color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">Chris
Hedges writes (ibid. p.47) that, “</span>not all who fall into despair turn to
the Christian Right” but “despair … is the fuel of the movement.” If we are to avoid
such close elections in the future, we need to honestly address despair within
all sections of American society. We will need to help people across the
country not try to seize power to compensate for their own feelings of
abandonment. This will not be a conversation of the brain solved by logic, but
of the heart, solved by love of the other. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">We will also need to address the sources of despair, particularly economic
sources of despair. We need to help people feel validated, seen, respected, valued
for their contribution to society. Finally, we need to show the benefits of
modernity to those who feel threatened by it and to those who think that they have
the most to lose by it. The new President-elect can and will talk of the
equality of all people, of being the President for all Americans. Karl Popper
once wrote, “To tell men that they are equal has a certain sentimental appeal.
But this appeal is small compared with that made by a propaganda that tells
them they are superior to others, and that others are inferior to them.” (The
Open Society and Its Enemies, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971, 1:96)
It is a firm Jewish principle that we are all descended from the same first
being so we are all equal. The reality, though, is that not all people in this
country are equal. Millions who were in positions of economic and social
privilege have lost that privilege and now feel threatened. They do not care
for the real systemic inequality in this country that affects others beyond their
view and they will do anything to return to their position of privilege, even
if it means subverting democratic norms. They will attach themselves to savior
figures to do it, and will ignore everything that those figures say or do in
order to regain their own feelings of power. They will be like the sheep
looking at the billboard, thankful for the honesty of their savior without
considering the harm of that savior’s message. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">Healing America, then, avoiding authoritarianism, necessitates profoundly
changing the American narrative. It means providing economic stability for all
in the face of multinational corporations who do not care for American citizens
and in the face of the irreversible automation of manual labor. It means speaking
to the heart and not just the brain of those who feel threatened by modernity.
It means unravelling the personal narrative of the American dream and replacing
it with a communal narrative of the American dream. It means abandoning radical
individualism. It means that if we are to dismantle systemic patriarchy and racism,
we must do so in a way that helps those who benefited from it to learn what we
all gain by that dismantling, so that they do not rise up in violent reaction
to what must necessarily happen for humanity to progress. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">The urge to authoritarianism is real. It is fed by despair and by
anti-intellectualism, particularly by white men who wish to protect their own
power and hierarchical sense of identity. It is fed by those who cannot see their
own persecution of others and who instead see themselves instead as victims
demanding a savior. It is not one man, it is a latent seed in the heart of man.
<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;">On this Shabbat, we rest. We celebrate the fact that millions more people
sought a democratic society than those who tolerated an authoritarian one. We
rest. We breathe. We gather our strength. We unify. We thank God for giving us
the ability to express our voice at the ballot box. And then after Shabbat, we
start the work of protecting democracy, of helping the vulnerable, of dismantling
the narratives of privilege and hierarchy in ways that show the benefit of that
work to all. We see the pain of the other, and help to remove it, for the
benefit of all. We do so because our understanding of religion, of God’s call,
is inclusive, loving and empowering. We do so because all of us are made <i>b’zelem
Elohim</i> – in the image of God. We do so because the work of helping the
other is the work of <i>tikkun olam</i> – of global and spiritual reunification,
the core of the Jew. And let us say, Amen.<o:p></o:p></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-27712650197087777432020-10-30T10:26:00.005-07:002020-10-30T19:36:47.541-07:00What to Pray for an Election?<p>Talmud talks of how important it is that we
do not waste our prayers. For example, one who sees a fire in their town from
afar cannot pray that it not be their house on fire, since it either is already
on fire or it isn’t, and prayer cannot change that reality. When it comes to
praying before an election, what prayer, then, might be appropriate?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the Mishnah (Avot 3:2), Rabbi Chanina,
the Deputy High Priest, says that we should pray for the welfare of the
government for if people did not fear it, they would swallow each other alive. In
the past, I always read this as a positive sentiment, reminding us that we need
overarching structures to protect ourselves. We need to social security net
because our capitalist structures do, essentially, swallow up the poor and the
economically fragile. Now, though, I cannot help but read this as a “law and
order” message, a cynical attempt to maintain the status quo by insisting that
without the current structures, society would rapidly devolve into chaos. That
message doesn’t say anything positive, it just renders any form of change
terrifying. The story of Rabbi Chanina is fascinating and, I believe, extremely
relevant to us today. At first, he distances himself from the patriots who
start to object to Roman rule, as made evident in the Mishnah I quoted. Later,
though, as it became more apparent to him how barbarous the Romans were, and
how much they focused their attacks on the Temple service, he changed his
approach to the ruling power and sided against them. Perhaps I have become too
cynical now, but it seems to me that his earlier maxim about praying for the
government was only when it worked for him. From his position of privilege, he
was able to hope for everything to stay as it was. As soon as negativity came
into his life, he rallied against it. If Chanina were a voter in an election,
it’s probably not too much of a stretch to say that he would be the kind of
voter who chooses their candidate on how they personally are affected, and not
the rest of the population. Chanina is so privileged and cut off from the rest
of reality that he cannot see the brutality of the Romans until way too late.
His mishnah protects the oppressor – it asks the community to ignore the faults
of those in power for fear of what may replace it and uses extraordinary hyperbole
– the idea that people would eat each other alive – to scare people into
keeping what is already problematic.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In his commentary on this mishnah, Rabbi Marc Angel says that “if the government is immoral,
one certainly should not pray for its welfare.” There are two difficulties to
this – firstly, who determines what is immoral and, secondly, what happens to
communal prayer? With regards to who determines what is immoral, what we usually
see around elections is that there are widely differing understandings of
morality – people who protest injustice and people who say those protests are
unjust, people who say that life begins at conception and those who say that it
begins at birth, people who say the government should protect the vulnerable
and those who say that taxation is theft. Indeed, in this country the question
of morality is often a deeply religious one – between those who believe that
their reading of the Bible is what should determine morality, and those who do
not since we do not live in a theocracy. One reason for the lack of decent
political discourse in this country is the deliberate infusion over the last
forty or so years of religious statements of morality into political discourse.
Another is the fact that both people on the left and the right tend to talk in
terms of absolute morality – of right and wrong – which is particularly ironic
when one considers the underlying message of liberal belief. What is considered
moral to one person is often immoral to another, and even if there are alienable
rights determined in a country’s constitution, it has become absolutely clear
that those absolutes are also subject to reinterpretation and thus modification
over time.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The second issue I have
with Rabbi Angel’s position is that it cannot work in a public setting, for
example in a community where people are always going to have differing
political views. In such cases, does the Rabbi become the arbiter of the
community’s morality? That’s not really what the Rabbinate is any more – that was
only the case back when Torah was seen as the only morality that mattered.
There is a prayer in our siddur, on page 258, for our country. The first part –
in slightly smaller font - is a clear quotation from Isaiah 58 that acts as a
kavvanah, an opening intention, for the prayer that follows. That prayer asks
that our leaders be granted “wisdom and forbearance” and that they govern “with
justice and compassion,” but otherwise talks more in terms of the general
country, almost as if to say that the government only makes up part of a country.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCLIfOERUx7EDk9kKB32-7xuTxGW8icybg9re__ry9Oa2U4cgZDFcVnWAx_jvLeYK1rF_VrU0Ze1aKwjmW3aG9g2uhBcx0AWB-q70g0sZti0zFFzHrlLZTjHVARG3OAMdiHiksvKDj-ve/s900/Vote+badge.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCLIfOERUx7EDk9kKB32-7xuTxGW8icybg9re__ry9Oa2U4cgZDFcVnWAx_jvLeYK1rF_VrU0Ze1aKwjmW3aG9g2uhBcx0AWB-q70g0sZti0zFFzHrlLZTjHVARG3OAMdiHiksvKDj-ve/s320/Vote+badge.png" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">On this Shabbat before
a crucial election which still hangs very much in the balance, I find the
prayer by FDR from 1940 </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">(From The
Faith of America, Ed. Mordecai Kaplan, et al., edited and adapted by Dennis C.
Sasso)</span><span lang="EN-GB"> to most deeply
resonate, and so I share it on this Shabbat:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #050505;">In every community in
our nation, friends and neighbors will gather together around the polling place.
They will discuss the state of the nation, the weather, and the prospect for
their favorite sports team. And I suppose there will be a few arguments.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">But when you and I
step into the voting booth, we can proudly say: “I am an American, and this
vote I am casting is the exercise of my highest privilege and my most solemn
duty to my country.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">We vote as free
people, impelled only by the urgings of our own wisdom and our own conscience.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">Dictators have
forgotten – or perhaps they never knew – that the opinion of all the people,
freely formed and freely expressed, without fear or coercion, is wiser than the
opinion of any one person or any small group of people.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">Every one of us has a
continuing responsibility for the Government which we choose. Democracy is not
just a word, to be shouted at political rallies…. Democracy [is] much more than
mere lip-service. Freedom of speech is of no use to the one who has nothing to
say…. A free election is of no use to the one who is too indifferent to vote.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">After the ballots are
counted, [we pray that] the United States of America will stand united. [The]
people of America know…that we have a reservoir of [faith and] strength which
can withstand attacks from abroad and corruption from within.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">On the eve of this
election, we all have in our hearts and minds a prayer for the dignity, the
integrity and the peace of our beloved country:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #050505;">O God, who has
entrusted to us this good land for our heritage, may we always prove ourselves
a people mindful of Your favor and glad to do Your will. Bless our land with
honorable industry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence,
discord, and confusion; from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way.
Protect our liberties, and fashion into one united people the multitudes brought
hither out of many kindreds and tongues. Endow with the spirit of wisdom those
to whom … we entrust the authority of government, that there may be justice and
peace at home and …among the nations of the earth. In times of prosperity, fill
our hearts with thankfulness, and in days of trouble, suffer not our trust and
faith to fail. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-46771691427323466382020-10-23T21:12:00.005-07:002020-10-23T21:12:42.206-07:00Saving the Planet, But Really - Noach 23rd October 2020<p>Much discussion has been had in recent years, including in
recent political discussion, about combating climate change. It is regularly
described as an existential threat. Businesses are trying to show how green
they are, particularly by reducing their carbon emissions. Saving the planet
and reducing carbon emissions are now, for the majority of the public,
synonymous terms. Political candidates, newspapers, environmental groups all
talk about the months we have left to save the world, how we have to rejoin the
Paris Accord in order to stave off the worst effects of the climate crisis.
That’s true, but it ignores the reality that is dawning on more and more people
that we are already past the point of no return and that climate change will
already happen that will be catastrophic to billions of people on this planet.
We can probably stave off the very worst effects of it for humanity, which
would be total extinction, but we are already locked into a series of positive
feedback cycles which will irrevocably change our planet.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In fact, reducing carbon emissions and saving the planet are
not the same thing. Most people assume a causative chain – that if we reduce
carbon emissions then we save the planet. In fact, it’s the other way round –
if we save the planet, we will also reduce carbon emissions. We tend not to
talk about the causation working in that way because it’s far more inconvenient
to do so. The truth is that we could end fossil fuel usage tomorrow and still
not save the planet, because saving the planet is a far larger task and we
don’t like to talk about that far larger task because it would necessitate a
total change in our lifestyles, and not just a change in carbon emissions. What
needs to change is the relationship between ourselves and nature. Reducing
carbon emissions should never be the ultimate goal – that goal should be our
reconnection with the world around us. Through that reconnection, carbon
emissions will necessarily diminish but much more will happen, too. This is an
existential crisis but it is not a crisis that can be solved by only by the business
world, it’s a crisis solved by a change in attitude to which businesses then
adapt.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Some people object to the language of “saving the planet”
because they say that the planet will be here long after homo sapiens has been
wiped off it. Such people say that what we’re really trying to do is save
ourselves – save humanity from extinction. That attitude is actually a symptom
of the far larger issue of androcentrism – of putting humanity in the middle of
everything – instead of biocentrism. There’s no question that the Bible helped
those with an androcentric worldview to claim divine support for their position
– indeed, last week’s Torah portion of Genesis clearly has the world set up for
humanity to then use in stewardship. However, there is another voice in
scripture, a profoundly biocentric voice in which humanity is one voice in a
larger choir of creation, a theme which is echoed in many of our prayers.
Genesis, however, is clearly androcentric. In this week’s Torah portion, when
Noah loads the animals onto the ark, he loads seven of every clean animal and
two of every unclean animal because the clean animals would need to be
sacrificed – in other words, they were being saved so that they could be useful
to humanity. In some sense, he is saving the animals in order to save humanity.
But those who say that we’re only really saving ourselves are ignoring the fact
that Noah did save two of every other animal as well because, and this is so
essential, they have value in and of themselves, regardless of their usefulness
to human society. That is a secondary and crucial message in the story of Noah.
This isn’t about us, it’s about all of creation. Yes, of course, reducing
carbon emissions helps reduce devastation in other species, but that’s not the
only way. All the windmills in the world won’t save the planet if we don’t make
other profound changes to our society.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For example, if we cut our emissions but also continue to
cut down rainforests for palm oil plantations, then we can be absolutely
certain that not only will the earth become more hostile to us but we also we
condemn to extinction many species, including the beloved orangutan. More
efficient cars and homes and businesses are essential, but if in those places
we still buy products that contribute to deforestation, then the impact of that
efficiency is dramatically undercut. If we still give our money to banks who
invest in companies that mine for resources in rainforests, if we buy phones
from companies who slaughter gorillas just to get to precious metals, if we
only consider the larger carbon footprint while avoiding the devastation caused
by the way we spend our money, then we have to ask how green we really are? If
we continue to consume plastic and other chemicals that pollute the oceans and
strangle the wildlife therein, then we have to be honest enough to remove any
pretense of being environmentally friendly. And if we continue to oppress the
global poor, if we continue to support the economic systems that lock billions
of people into debt and force them to despoil and then sell their own local
environmental resources on a global market, are we really going to save the
planet just because we reduced our carbon emissions? Indeed, how green are we
if we continue to buy products from multinational companies who, half way round
the world, force billions of people to buy patented monoculture crops that help
the corporations rake in enormous sums of money which are removed from the
local economy while the local environment is degraded beyond repair due to the
lack of biodiversity in the crops, and then the same corporations make more
money selling pesticides to the farmers which poison them further and which
would have been totally unnecessary had their local knowledge of how to plant
crops locally been listened to? <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Noah sits in the ark with all the animals. He tends them and
takes care of them but ultimately, he believes that he is above them, not one
of them – he thinks he is a guardian of nature, not a part of nature. Western
society has for the last four hundred years shifted from a perspective of
working within nature to one of conquering nature. We’ve now conquered nature
by devastating it. We won the war in which there were no winners. Yes, it is
important to reduce carbon emissions but that will be a hollow victory if we do
not simultaneously repair the relationship between ourselves and the rest of
nature. We need to be of nature, not for nature. That is a change in
spirituality, not in business models. It is a change in the way we view our
world. It means changing our liturgy, rephrasing our spirituality and then, as
a result, in modifying the way we live on the earth. This Shabbat Noach, we
acknowledge that time is short. The waters are literally rising. We need to
change not just how we shop but also how we think because we can no longer
simply shut the door and drown out the cries of the rest of the natural world
as it faces annihilation. This Shabbat Noach, we need to commit to saving the
planet not just through an alternate consumerism but, more importantly, through
re-evaluation of our place in this world. We do this not for our sake, but for
the sake of the whole of this wondrous, irreplaceable creation. And let us say,
Amen.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-8505731607422895132020-10-16T15:41:00.002-07:002020-10-16T15:41:24.836-07:00<p> <b>After the Obelisk</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Earlier this week, the obelisk that has stood in the
Santa Fe plaza since 1866 was torn down at the end of a protest on Indigenous
Peoples’ Day, formerly known as Columbus Day. It was torn down by people who
objected to the phrase that was etched into one of its sides, describing Native
Americans as “savage.” On another side of the obelisk, though, was an inscription
praising Union soldiers who died in the Civil War, thereby ensuring that
slavery did not continue in this land. Years ago, someone scratched out the
word “savage” but the fact that a monument still stood that contained a plaque
celebrating defeating the indigenous population in battle was still obviously
problematic for many locals.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I totally support changing the name of Columbus Day to
Indigenous Peoples’ Day, and changing the focus of what we learn on that day. Some
of Columbus’ actions were so monstrous that he was returned home in chains and
had his commission stripped from him. One person who accompanied him on his
voyages wrote <span style="background: white; color: #111111;">“Such inhumanities
and barbarisms were committed in my sight as no age can parallel… My eyes have
seen these acts so foreign to human nature that now I tremble as I write.”</span>
(Bartolome de las Casa). In 1495, he started the Transatlantic Slave Trade,
shipping 500 Arawaks back to Spain, although 200 of them died on the journey. Due
to barbaric treatment which he started in earnest, the approximately 300,000
Arawaks who had existed before Columbus’ arrival were all gone by the year
1650. So, of course we should not be celebrating him. The shift from Columbus
Day to Indigenous Peoples’ Day was first discussed in 1990 and implemented in
1992 in Berkeley, California. More and more cities around the US are replacing Columbus
Day with Indigenous Peoples’ Day every year. It has taken thirty years of
honest dialogue to bring about that change in an increasing number of cities.
That change was not brought about by violence or by smashing monuments to Columbus,
it was brought about through a deliberate process of educating people about who
Columbus really was, and educating people of the pain of the Native American
community. The introduction of another narrative that challenges conventional
thinking takes decades to take hold in most of society.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The same could be said
of ending of the Entrada in 2018, which was a huge victory for the process of
peaceful demonstration and subsequent negotiation that started with the first formal
objection to the ritual back in 1977. That opposition started to swell in 2015
until it became obvious that not only was the narrative of the Entrada false
but also offensive to many people. With Columbus Day and the Entrada,
deliberate and careful changing of the social narrative was what brought about
profound change.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I acknowledge, though,
that my position that social change needs to be made through deliberate dialogue
comes from a position of privilege. The poverty of the local Native American
communities today has led to a staggering prevalence of COVID-19 cases and
there’s no question that their historic military defeat that was formerly
celebrated on the obelisk started that impoverishment. I would therefore
understand if Native American people tore down the obelisk, although I must
stress that at this time we don’t know who did it – whether it was members of
the Native American community or, in fact, members of the Anglo community
believing that they were acting in the interests of the Native American community,
or a cross-section of both communities.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYkVfJsX0KehO96m_lE-7S_adttGP8FyMEeHUd48GTPgF5M3wdGw1X62HPuOr6t9dm4N-78OOldmrQXiDpT7TnsEjrLE7csYictpki-fV7o2E9YGwd6UuqR4fDs9kWgKjQVvOOy0fgiFb/s1500/3-Tear-down-Obelisk.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYkVfJsX0KehO96m_lE-7S_adttGP8FyMEeHUd48GTPgF5M3wdGw1X62HPuOr6t9dm4N-78OOldmrQXiDpT7TnsEjrLE7csYictpki-fV7o2E9YGwd6UuqR4fDs9kWgKjQVvOOy0fgiFb/s320/3-Tear-down-Obelisk.webp" width="320" /></a></div><span style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Photograph by Katherine Lewin</i></p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I appreciate that support
for this act could come from other acts of historic civil disobedience which shattered
a deeply ingrained social narrative and introduced them to another narrative
that they had not yet considered. For example, Susan B. Anthony illegally voted
in 1872, Rosa Parks refused to move from her bus seat when a white man wanted
it, and thousands of Americans burned their draft cards to Vietnam. But I
believe that there is a difference between these acts and what happened at the
obelisk on Monday. These acts challenged the narrative but they did not destroy
property that others held to be dear. Of course, Jews have historically never
really been very attached to property because we were always moving from one
land to another as a result of persecution, except for one piece of property
which has always been held dear to our hearts – the Temple. We pray towards the
Temple not because we believe that God is in one physical place but because that
act unifies us, it focuses us, it forms a navigating point for us as a people
no matter where we are. In a similar but obviously far lesser way, the obelisk
was the same for many Santa Feans. It was an assembly of stones that helped
orient all Santa Feans. It was literally at the center of the Santa Fe
community. Its blandness artistically helped it represent everyone, even if one
of the plaques below did not. Perhaps better than comparing it to the Temple
would be comparing it to Jacob setting up a pillar of stones and calling it Bet-El
– the house of God (Gen. 28:19). It wasn’t the stones that made the place the
house of God, they just marked it the intention he gave to the site. Of course,
Jacob acted alone and did not ascribe his monument to any victory over other
people, so I acknowledge that my analogy is therefore far from perfect. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">What we do know is that
since it was destroyed, there have been far more public expressions of racism
against the Native American community, and that cannot be a good thing. I
understand that such expressions are a symptom of pain, but there are ways to
release pain that can be healthy and ways to cause pain that can be extremely
unhealthy and that lead to more pain. Consideration of removing the obelisk is
not new – in the past its removal was blocked simply because it was a federal
survey point! Maybe too many privileged people waited too long to change the dominant
social narrative. It is our job to “seek peace and pursue it” (Ps. 34:14) but
maybe we tolerated the status quo instead of seeking peace, which is why the
ultimate act of civil disobedience needed to happen. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Now we have to look
forward. I have already submitted the suggestion to the city that in the future
the three uninscribed sides of the plinth carry an identical message of
reconciliation in English, Tewa and Spanish. Faith leaders from the Interfaith
Leadership Alliance of Santa Fe, as well as other faith leaders in future weeks,
will be gathering on a weekly basis at the plaza to offer prayers and readings
of reconciliation. A city-wide panel is being put together to address matters
of reconciliation that probably should have started earlier but is certainly
happening now. The plaque celebrating defeating Indians should never return and
should perhaps be placed in a museum… if any museum even wants it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">But what about Santa
Fe? How do we go about the process of reconciliation? The first and most
important stage is, I believe, to hear each other’s pain and to recognize that
even those who share the same experience will necessarily frame that experience
through the lenses of differing narratives. So, we need to share our
narratives, truly hear them, and not try to prove or disprove them in the face
of other narratives. Then, we need to work out a way to take elements from all
our differing narratives and form a shared narrative. If nothing else, the
destruction of the obelisk in the plaza reminds us how essential that work of
dialogue in forming a new narrative truly is. Sometimes change is gradual and sometimes
it is abrupt. Sometimes we need a dramatic event like the destruction at the
Sea of Reeds and sometimes we need to grow and learn through trial and error
like the forty years of wandering in the wilderness. We cannot yearn to return
to Egypt for that way is rightly closed to us forever. We must press on. May we
do so with strength and with compassion.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-14865476686145954392018-05-22T08:16:00.000-07:002018-05-22T08:16:16.936-07:00Israel at 70 – Facing Reality and Finding Hope
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">I rarely give sermons about Israel. The
last time I did was immediately after the last elections when Netanyahu had
said some appalling things and I couldn’t contain my rage. After that sermon, a
member was so disgusted with my perspective that he left the community and
subsequently left Santa Fe. So, part of the reason I have avoided talking about
Israel is cowardice, because I’d rather not upset members of the community. And
a community with such divided opinions means that pretty much anything that I
say about Israel is going to upset at least someone. Of course, sermons aren’t
always meant to be comforting, they are often meant to be challenging, but
Israel brings out something else in people – especially Jews – and that,
perhaps, is what I want to talk about most this evening. I do so because once
again lives have been lost and because I have come to believe that many liberal
Jews are not aware of some of the nuance of what is happening in the Middle
East. Indeed, in some of the correspondence and conversations I’ve had this
week, some members have openly owned their lack of knowledge of the situation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Allow me to state some starting
positions. I have visited Israel twice, both times were over twenty years ago. When
I was there, I met my first victim of terror – a young boy who had a plastic
forehead because his original one had been blown off in a nail bomb. Between
2000 and 2003, there were 73 suicide bombings aimed at Israeli civilians, but
after the security barrier was built the number dropped to 12 in a similar time
period. There is no question in my mind that the location of the security
barrier is deeply problematic, and while I believe that Israel had every right
to erect it, I was one of many Jews worldwide who were troubled by where it was
placed. I remember the feeling of fear amongst every day Israelis at that time
of imminent attack, a fear which was grounded in decades of previous attacks by
Arab nations - including the most cynical one on Yom Kippur - and by
Palestinian suicide bombers. The security barrier is important, though. Acting
in self-defence after repeated attacks, Israel protected itself and in so doing
limited the rights of neighboring Palestinians, much to the condemnation of
much of the rest of the world. Jews in Israel were not seen as victims because
they had money, they had US support, they had nuclear weapons – they were
painted as the bully Goliath and western liberals lapped it up because any
blood spilled of impoverished Palestinians seemed to pollute the ground more
than the blood of well-off Israelis, when both should have equally offended the
conscience. In truth, both sides were, and indeed continue to be, victims.
Victims often lash out in inappropriate retaliation, and I believe that
addressing victimhood in the Middle East is, in fact, the primary path to
peace. But I get ahead of myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">This week, following Israel’s killing of
62 Palestinians near the border fence, I have received many emails and seen
many social media posts from congregants and liberal clergy of other faiths
excoriating Israel for breaking international law, for being the bullying
Goliath against the helpless Palestinians. I have read a multitude of books,
news articles and internet commentaries, and this sermon is the culmination of
that research. I will say from the beginning that if my research is flawed, I
ask you to later provide me with sources that you think are relevant that I
haven’t seen. Don’t get angry with me because I haven’t read something that you
have - please later help widen my knowledge on this subject, and perhaps with a
new perspective I’ll present another sermon on the topic in the future. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Another starting position is that Israel
exists and has a right to exist. How the State of Israel was formed is clearly
open to debate. The Israeli narrative tends to focus on repeatedly requesting
Arab people to remain peacefully in their homes, while the Palestinian
narrative focuses on expulsion and atrocities by Israeli troops. A British
police report from 1948, for example, states clearly “every effort is being
made by the Jews to persuade the Arab populace to stay and carry on with their
normal lives, to get their shops and businesses open and to be assured that
their lives and interests will be safe.” (British police report, 26/4/48,
“Myths and Facts 1976,” Near East Report, Washington, 1976). There are a number
of such reports. However, in the introduction to his expansive text “The Birth
of the Palestinian Refugee Problem Revisited,” Benny Morris explains that new
documents reveal “that there were both far more expulsions and atrocities by
Israeli troops than tabulated [previously]… and, at the same time, far more
orders and advice to various communities by Arab officials and officers to quit
their villages or at least send away their women, old folk and children,
substantially fuelling the exodus.” (p.5) In other words, both narratives probably
contain elements of truth, although with 70 years of oral embellishment on both
sides, it is particularly difficult now to determine what happened at the
formation of the State of Israel seventy years ago. What I say with a fair
degree of certainty, though, is that the Palestinians were treated terribly by
their Arab brethren at the time, and instead of being absorbed into their
countries, were used as a political tool, which, I believe, is a policy that
has now started to bear real fruit. In 1949, for example, Musa Al-Alami wrote
in his article “The Lesson of Palestine” in the Middle East Journal that “It is
shameful that the Arab governments should prevent the Arab refugees from
working in their countries and shut the doors in their faces and imprison them
in camps.” Abu Mazen wrote back in 1976 that “The Arab armies entered Palestine
to protect the Palestinians… but, instead, they abandoned them, forced them to
emigrate and to leave their homeland, imposed upon them a political and
ideological blockade and threw them into prison similar to the ghettos in which
the Jews used to live in Europe (Al-Thaura, March 1976).” In other words,
however the State of Israel was founded, it was founded through international
law, and the Palestinian people who fled, either by will or by force, were
abandoned by their Arab brethren, and I believe continue to be abandoned by
them today, other than the expression of meaningless platitudes whenever
Israelis kill Palestinians. Whether we like it or not, the future of the State
of Israel is intimately linked with the future of the Palestinian people, and
the two cannot be separated. In some sense, Israel and the Palestinians are one
– their fate of conflict and of potential peace – is one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">What we saw this week
was a tragedy, but a tragedy far more nuanced than most people – and
unquestionably most news outlets – allow. When we talk about demonstrations, in
this country we think of rallies and protests. The demonstration last week was
not that. <span style="margin: 0px;">Ahmed Abu Artema was the man
who thought up the March of Return. Writing in the New York Times
(https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/14/opinion/gaza-protests-organizer-great-return-march.html),
he explains his disdain for national borders, saying that last December he
watched a bird fly over the border and found himself thinking “how much smarter
birds and animals are than people” in that “they harmonize with nature instead
of erecting walls.” This liberal-sounding message, though, is not liberal at
all. When your neighbor has to erect a reinforced wall in order to stop you and
your brethren from killing him, what is more unnatural is the initial desire to
kill your neighbor merely because they are on a piece of land that you once
owned. Of course, Abu Artema is not openly calling for violence - he’s just
calling for the end of the Israeli state by removing its borders. And to be
clear, while I dislike the trait of nationalism in individuals, particularly as
a source of pride, the idea of ending nation states is nonsensical. The idea of
ending only one nation state is simply offensive. So, The Great March of Return
was not a demonstration against Israeli occupation and it was not a protest
against the American Embassy being moved to Jerusalem. It was an attempt to
establish what Palestinians call The Right of Return, which means every
Palestinian returning to their homes in Israel. It is a nonsensical dream that
will never happen, and the continued insistence on the Right of Return
immediately ends any potential peace because if all the Palestinians and all
their descendants returned to Israel, the Jews would be profoundly outnumbered
and the Jewish state would cease to exist. The Right of Return is not a right,
it is a political position meaning the end of Israel as a nation state. While
the Palestinian people demand the Right of Return, there will never be peace in
the Middle East. This belief in the Right of Return is bolstered by the United
Nations. “</span></span><a href="https://www.unrefugees.org/refugee-facts/what-is-a-refugee/" target="_blank"><span style="border-image: none; border: 1pt windowtext; color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none;">Unlike every other refugee population</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"> on this planet,
the UN extends refugee status not only to those Palestinians who lived in what
is today’s Israel and fled or were forced from their homes 70 years ago. It
also, with ongoing counterproductive consequence, </span><a href="https://www.unrwa.org/palestine-refugees" target="_blank"><span style="border-image: none; border: 1pt windowtext; color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none;">extends refugee status to
their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and onward into eternity</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> (</span></span><a href="https://www.timesofisrael.com/world-must-tell-gazas-hamas-abused-masses-the-truth-there-will-be-no-return/"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">https://www.timesofisrael.com/world-must-tell-gazas-hamas-abused-masses-the-truth-there-will-be-no-return/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">) So, the March of Return was never about peace, it
was never about protesting against the intolerable conditions in Gaza. It was
about ending the State of Israel. It was also nothing like demonstrations that
we know. Of the 62 people killed, 50 were members of Hamas and 3 were members
of Islamic Jihad. A press release from Hamas says, <strong><span style="font-weight: normal; margin: 0px;">“Our people set out today
to react to the new American Zionist aggression and to tell the world with its
blood and limbs that it is the one that will draw the map of return and the map
of victories…The blood that has been spilled in resisting this crime will
arouse a revolution until the occupation is removed.” (</span></strong></span><a href="http://jcpa.org/article/why-hamas-interested-palestinian-deaths/"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">http://jcpa.org/article/why-hamas-interested-palestinian-deaths/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
Hamas used to think that success lay in Israeli deaths, but now it has changed
focus. Now it wants Palestinian deaths. Now it wants martyrs, because armchair
observers in the West are far more easily swayed to turn against Israel by the image
of dead Palestinians. Death encourages sympathy. So, they took over the March
of Return and lied to the Palestinian people. As the New York Times reported,
“After midday prayers, clerics and leaders of militant factions in Gaza, led by
Hamas, urged thousands of worshipers to join the protests. The fence had
already been breached, they said falsely, claiming Palestinians were flooding
into Israel.” (</span><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/14/world/middleeast/gaza-israel-deadly-protest-scene.html"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/14/world/middleeast/gaza-israel-deadly-protest-scene.html</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
The Washington Post similarly reported that “At a gathering point east of Gaza
City, organizers urged protesters over loudspeakers to burst through the fence,
telling them Israeli soldiers were fleeing their positions, even as they were
reinforcing them.” (</span><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/middle_east/gaza-protests-take-off-ahead-of-new-us-embassy-inauguration-in-jerusalem/2018/05/14/eb6396ae-56e4-11e8-9889-07bcc1327f4b_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.29ab1ccbbcbd"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/middle_east/gaza-protests-take-off-ahead-of-new-us-embassy-inauguration-in-jerusalem/2018/05/14/eb6396ae-56e4-11e8-9889-07bcc1327f4b_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.29ab1ccbbcbd</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
This was not a peaceful protest. Hamas openly admit it. ““When we talk about
‘peaceful resistance,’” Hamas co-founder Mahmoud al-Zahar said in an interview,
“we are deceiving the public. This is peaceful resistance bolstered by a
military force and by security agencies.” (</span><a href="https://www.memri.org/tv/senior-hamas-official-mahmoud-zahhar-on-gaza-protests-this-is-not-peaceful-resistance"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">https://www.memri.org/tv/senior-hamas-official-mahmoud-zahhar-on-gaza-protests-this-is-not-peaceful-resistance</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
Widely </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/GNNA.NOW/posts/2086816901645804" target="_blank"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">circulated</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"> Arabic instructions on Facebook
directed protesters to “bring a knife, dagger, or gun if available and to
breach the Israeli border and kidnap civilians. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">(</span><a href="http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-news-and-politics/262329/gaza-media-explainer"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-news-and-politics/262329/gaza-media-explainer</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>An NPR interviewer asked a Gazan with a kite
with a swastika on it what it means to him. "The Jews go crazy when you
mention Hitler,” he said, adding that he knew exactly what it represented with
the chilling words, “We want them to burn.” (ibid.) Before discussing the
Israeli response, then, let’s be absolutely clear what this was. This was an
attempt at an armed incursion on a national border. It was an act of war, using
civilians as a figurative and literal smokescreen. Individuals armed with guns
and machetes – and there is clear photographic and video evidence of this - <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>attempted to breach the fence in order to kill
and kidnap Israelis. Hamas knew exactly what it was doing when it urged Gazans
forward because it wanted them to be shot. Hamas does not care about the
Palestinian people. It is a brutal regime that maims or kills anyone who
protests against it and that cannot be voted out because it has banned
elections. The inhumanity of Hamas is something most Western liberals cannot
comprehend. The Palestinians in Gaza, territory which Israel gave back in an
attempt at peace, are ruled by one of the most repressive, violent, theocratic
regimes in the world and there is no conceivable way of them being removed from
Hamas’ vice. Hamas knows that Western media will be apoplectic at the apparent
slaughter of supposedly peaceful protestors. They played the Western media like
a fiddle and now liberals all across the world are singing Hamas’ tune without
realizing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Should
Israel have responded the way it did? A number of colleagues and congregants
wrote to me this week calling for restraint, saying Israel should not have used
lethal force. One asked me to openly condemn Israel’s response. In a similar
vein, this week, Daniel Sugarman wrote in the Jewish Chronicle that<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> “<em>There are ways to disperse crowds
which do not include live fire. But the IDF has made an active choice to fire
live rounds and kill scores of people. You cannot tell me that Israel, a land
of technological miracles which have to be seen to be truly believed, is
incapable of coming up with a way of incapacitating protestors that does not
include gunning dozens of them down.” (</em></i></span><a href="https://www.thejc.com/comment/comment/the-hamas-attacks-on-the-gaza-border-have-met-with-an-overwhelming-and-deadly-response-by-israeli-forces-this-must-be-condemned-1.464174"><span style="color: windowtext; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">https://www.thejc.com/comment/comment/the-hamas-attacks-on-the-gaza-border-have-met-with-an-overwhelming-and-deadly-response-by-israeli-forces-this-must-be-condemned-1.464174</span></a><em><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">) A few days later, though, he
realized that he had made an error. In a second article, he wrote, “</span></em><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">I’d said that surely there must be a
way the protestors could be stopped without shooting live ammunition at them –
that Israel, with its incredible technological capabilities, must be capable of
developing a way. That was a cry of anguish, but it was not an argument. If no
such technology currently exists, then it was absurd of me to blame the IDF for
not magically willing it into existence. The traditional crowd stopping
technology would not have worked effectively. Rubber bullets are only short
range. The same with water cannons. And with tens of thousands of people
rushing the border, this would have been extremely unlikely to work
effectively. The border would have been broken through. And then, without much
of a doubt, a lot of people in Israel would have died. That was,
after all, Hamas’s stated aim…. I failed to acknowledge that, either way,
Israel would be giving Hamas what it wanted. Shoot at those charging at you and
Hamas would have its martyrs. Fail to shoot and Hamas would break through the
barrier and bring suffering and death – its stated aim - to Israelis living
only a few hundred metres away from that barrier. The march may have originally
been, as it was declared to be, about Palestinians returning to the homes they
had to leave 70 years before. But Hamas’s aim was far more straightforward – to
quote, “We will take down the border and we will tear out their hearts from
their bodies…. The choice was, quite literally, shoot at people running at you
with the stated aim of killing you and your families, or fail to shoot and let
them do it.” (</span><a href="https://www.thejc.com/comment/comment/i-said-israel-should-be-ashamed-of-its-actions-on-the-gaza-border-now-i-am-the-one-who-is-ashamed-1.464233"><span style="color: windowtext; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">https://www.thejc.com/comment/comment/i-said-israel-should-be-ashamed-of-its-actions-on-the-gaza-border-now-i-am-the-one-who-is-ashamed-1.464233</span></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">What about
international law? There is far more nuance here than people seem to appreciate.
There is no question that last month we saw deplorable footage of Israeli
snipers shooting individuals near the border who were clearly posing no risk to
human life, laughing as they did so. Such immorality, such inhumanity, was
clearly in breach of international law against protestors and the individuals
involved need to be punished to the full extent of the law. However, this week
the situation was different. The law says that “the intentional lethal use of
firearms may only be made when strictly unavoidable in order to protect life.”
Last month’s footage was clearly in breach of that. But that was then and this
is now. Rupert Colville, a spokesman for the UN High Commissioner for Human
Rights, says that “an attempt to approach or crossing or damaging the fence do
not amount to a threat to life or serious injury and are not sufficient grounds
for the use of live ammunition.” (</span><a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-44124556"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-44124556</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
He added that even if stones or Molotov cocktails are thrown, even then lethal
force is not permissible. But was that what happened this week? Was this just
an attempt at a crossing? Was this just people chucking stones? Or, was it to
once again use the words of those who took over control of the rally, an
attempt to take down the border and tear out the hearts from Israelis’ bodies
by an organization that openly calls for the destruction of Israel and that has
fired over 10,000 rockets into Israel in the last ten years? When people approach
the border to breach it while armed with weapons, we have to ask was this an
attempt at approaching the fence or was this the physical manifestation of an
ongoing declaration of war? If it was, then of course lethal force is allowed.
The impossible difficulty is that international law is framed in such a way
that it doesn’t currently properly address this kind of situation. To say that
this was a breach of international law is way too simplistic and reveals an
immediate bias, conscious or not.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">One of my
colleagues – a member of the Central Conference of American Rabbis - was there,
at the border. He wrote the following: “<span style="color: #1d2129; margin: 0px;">I want to
testify that what I saw and heard was a tremendous, supreme effort from our
side, to prevent in every possible way Palestinian deaths and injuries. Of
course, the primary mission was to prevent hundreds of thousands of Gazans from
infiltrating into our territory. That kind of invasion would be perilous,
mortally dangerous to the nearby communities, would permit terrorists disguised
as civilians to enter our kibbutzim and moshavim, and would leave us with no
choice but to target every single infiltrator.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">That’s why our soldiers were directed to prevent infiltration –
in a variety of ways, only using live ammunition as a last resort. The IDF
employs many creative means of reducing friction with Gazans and uses numerous
methods, most of which are not made public, to prevent them from reaching the
fence.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">In addition, over the last few weeks there have been serious
efforts to save the lives of children and civilians who have been pushed to the
front lines by Hamas – who are trying to hide behind them in order to
infiltrate and attack Israel.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">When there is no alternative and live ammunition must be used to
stop those who storm the fence – the soldiers make heroic and sometimes
dangerous efforts not to kill and only to injure those on the other side.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">The IDF is stationing senior commanders at every confrontation
point to ensure that every shot is approved and backed up by a responsible
figure with proper authority. Every staging area has an especially large number
of troops in order to make sure that soldiers are not put into life-threatening
situations where they will have no choice but to fire indiscriminately.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">A situation where thousands of people rush you is frightening,
even terrifying. It is extremely difficult to show restraint, and it requires
calm, mature professionalism.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">55 dead is an enormous number. But I can testify from my
first-hand experience, that every bullet and every hit is carefully reported,
documented and investigated, in Excel spreadsheets. Literally. I was there and
I saw it with my own eyes.” (</span><a href="http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/i-was-at-the-gaza-border-we-did-all-we-could-to-avoid-killing/"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: blue;">http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/i-was-at-the-gaza-border-we-did-all-we-could-to-avoid-killing/</span></span></a><span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">When
Israel gave back Gaza in 2007, it did so in the hope that it would bring
peace.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Instead, it brought the rise of
Hamas, a continual rain of rockets and repeated attempts to infiltrate Israel
through tunnels. The Israeli response was a blockade of Gaza, although few
realize that Egypt also continues the blockade on their border as well. Israel,
Egypt and Hamas are responsible for the impoverishment in Gaza. The blockade
makes it impossible for Gazans to grow sufficient food, or to fish in deep
enough waters, or to have access to healthcare, education and jobs. It breeds
enormous resentment. At the same time, Hamas destroy crossing posts that would
enable their people to have access to humanitarian aid, and they spend millions
on weapons of war and on terrorist tunnels instead of raising the living
standard of the people in Gaza. Their leaders all have electricity and food,
while their people do not.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Protesting
against Israel, especially while receiving a stipend from Hamas, is the only
way such a desperate people can express their now multi-generational
frustration and indeed </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">sometimes make money to survive. The
situation in Gaza is intolerable. “97% of Gaza households depend on water
delivered by tanker trucks. Sewage is another problem. Although 78% of
households are connected to public sewage networks, treatment plants are
overloaded. Around 90 million litres of partially treated and raw sewage is
pumped in to the Mediterranean and open ponds daily - meaning 95% of
groundwater in the Strip is polluted.” (</span><a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-20415675"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-20415675</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
And, in a very different way, the situation in cities like S’derot, the Israeli
city closest to Gaza, is also intolerable, with children and adults regularly
diving for cover or bomb shelters because of continual rocket attacks. Medical
studies in </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sderot" title="Sderot"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Sderot</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">
have documented a </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-traumatic_stress_disorder" title="Post-traumatic stress disorder"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">post-traumatic stress disorder</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">
incidence among young children of almost 50%, as well as high rates of </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Major_depressive_disorder" title="Major depressive disorder"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">depression</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"> and </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miscarriage"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">miscarriage</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">.
(</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palestinian_rocket_attacks_on_Israel"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palestinian_rocket_attacks_on_Israel</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">).
On both sides there are clear victims, but the world usually only sees one side
of victimhood. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">So, having faced what I
understand as the reality of this week, where could we find hope? In my
opinion, the world needs to make it very clear to all Palestinians that the
Right of Return is totally unrealistic and that continuing to demand for it
will continue to impoverish the Palestinian people and will continue tension in
the area. With that in mind, I believe that the refugee status accorded to even
to grandchildren of those who once lived in the land should be changed. As
Ignacio Cassis, the Swiss Foreign Minister said, this “provides ammunition to
continue the conflict. For as long as Palestinians live in refugee camps, they
will want to return to their homeland.” He adds, “By supporting UNRWA (The
United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East)
we are keeping the conflict alive.” (</span><a href="http://honestreporting.com/idns-05-16-2018-iran-meddling/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: blue;">http://honestreporting.com/idns-05-16-2018-iran-meddling/</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
The mood and current lack of nuance at the UN, though, does not make me hopeful
that such a thing will happen soon.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">There are other things
that need to happen before there is peace. The illegal settlements, built to
house the ultra-orthodox Jews who hear a false call from God louder than the
genuine call from their human neighbor, must be dismantled. The situation in
Gaza must be improved and that can only happen when – somehow – Hamas are
removed from power, or at the very least are brought to the negotiating table
with Fatah. The current political climate in the region, though, and Hamas’
vice grip on Gaza, does not make me hopeful that this will happen soon either. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Rabbi Micky Boyden said
this week, “As long as Hamas’ ultimate goal remains the destruction of the
Jewish state, Israel can hardly be blamed for taking whatever action she
considers necessary to protect the lives of her citizens.” (</span><a href="https://weareforisrael.org/2018/05/15/the-bloodbath-in-gaza/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: blue;">https://weareforisrael.org/2018/05/15/the-bloodbath-in-gaza/</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">)
I disagree – I think that is not nuanced enough. Sometimes, Israel sees attack
as the best method of defence, but often does not make the compelling case as
to why such attacks are important, and then it is easily painted worldwide as
the aggressor. To be clear, this week’s response was not that, in my opinion -
this week was purely about defence. Nonetheless, I believe that not only does Israel
always need to take action in accordance with international law, but it needs
to make a greater case to the world when it does. I believe that Israel needs
to continually remind the world that Hamas has an open declaration of war
against it and that anyone involved in action that threatens the State of
Israel must be treated as an enemy combatant, not as a protestor. It needs to
make that legal case clearer, and in so doing needs to send the message to the
Palestinian people that any action against a border will be treated as an act
of war, and met with appropriate corresponding force. It cannot make that legal
case alone, certainly not internally. It has to be a full, public presentation
to the world. Israel needs to engage in an honest global discussion about the
nuance of international law in situations like the one we saw this week.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">I do find hope in the
fact that you, the members of this community, have sat through a lengthy sermon
trying to open up nuance in an often polarizing issue. It is only through
nuanced discussion that we could possibly come to develop peace. Simplistic
signs like the one on Old Pecos Trail, or cartoons like the one in this week’s
Santa Fe Reporter, that blame Israel for slaughtering civilians, do literally
nothing for peace. In fact, I am certain that they exacerbate conflict. Blaming
only one side for this conflict is nonsensical. Both sides have done things
that they shouldn’t. Both sides have missed opportunities for peace. So, along
with the need for nuance is the need for greater recognition of mutual pain and
mutual blame. If Israelis and Palestinians can see that their own leaders have
sometimes failed them all, that they have caused the other pain, then perhaps
there is hope.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">There is one step I can
see happening that might bring hope. The Jewish community around the world
needs to see the suffering of the Palestinian people as real, we need to
acknowledge it alongside the suffering of the Israeli people. The Palestinians’
victimhood cannot be denied merely because of Israel’s victimhood as well.
Whoever the cause of their suffering has been over the last seventy years
should be secondary to the actual real acknowledgement of current suffering.
Jewish tradition does not ask us to explore the roots of a person’s or a
people’s current suffering - it just demands that we do everything in our power
to try to remove them from suffering. How we do that of course depends on where
we think that suffering comes from, and for that we will need nuance. We cannot
just say that the Palestinian people suffer because of Hamas because that would
be ignoring half of the story. If the Palestinian people thrived, if they were
wealthy, if they traded with Israel, then financial incentives to violence from
Hamas would be totally ineffective. Mass punishment as a response to individual
acts of terror has not worked. We therefore need to therefore help lift the standard
of living in Gaza and to do that we have to first and foremost acknowledge the
suffering that is there.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">I will say one place
where I definitely find hope, and that is in Creativity for Peace, and all the
similar organizations in the Middle East and around the world that bring
Israelis and Palestinians together to break down barriers and to show a shared
humanity, to give space to shared pain. True lasting peace is never obtained by
blame, but by reconciliation. All the liberals around the world who point
fingers do far less to bring about peace than the liberals who actually create
relationships. Pointing fingers is easy, it is cheap, it is a way of easing our
conscience by blaming others. Psalm 34(:14) adjures us to “seek peace and
pursue it.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Marching with placards isn’t
pursuing peace. Writing angry Facebook posts isn’t pursuing peace. Debating the
Middle East isn’t pursuing peace. “Making peace among people” (Mishkan T’fillah
siddur, p.88), actively bringing people together, breaking down resentment and
mistrust, that is pursuing peace. If people really want me to condemn anyone, I
will condemn not only those who engage in acts of violence but also those who
blame and do nothing else. If we can all stop pointing fingers and actually get
involved in the real work of bringing people together, then perhaps God will,
in the words of Leviticus, “bring peace upon the land” (Lev. 26:6). If our
Temple is to pursue peace, it needs to actively support projects that bring
Israelis and Palestinians together. Only then could we authentically call
ourselves <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">beit shalom</i>, a house of
peace. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">So may we come together
to alleviate the suffering of all, to recognize the shared pain of all and to
actively work together to make peace. May our community be a beacon for peace,
striving to listen to those in pain and to help break down barriers of
resentment. May we be among the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing
peace (Mishnah Avot 1:12) and may we truly work for a time when nation shall
not lift up sword against nation, and neither shall they learn war anymore (Is.
2:4, Mic. 4:3). And let us say, Amen.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3403018014449038609.post-38055259360945935862018-02-23T12:53:00.000-07:002018-02-23T12:53:00.703-07:00The Consolidation of Evil sermon, Shabbat Zachor 2018
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">One
of the things I used to love about Star Wars as a child was it very clearly
defined good and evil. Darth Vader – dark and forboding, face covered by a
mask, was evil. Luke Skywalker, wearing a white outfit, was good. Yes, it
blurred the lines somewhat, and by the end of Return of the Jedi when Vader
tried to atone for everything he had done, we understood that good people can
become bad and that bad people can become good. Nonetheless, a polarized system
of good and evil was clearly established. You either fought for good, or for
evil. That’s very comforting, especially during childhood, because it makes the
world a much easier place to live in. It makes morality a simple on/off
exercise of either being righteous or being wicked.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">The
play Cyrano de Bergerac, by Edmond Rostand, ends in a similar way. In his final
speech, Cyrano rallies against compromise. Cyrano didn’t see the world with
nuance, he saw black and white, right and wrong. I lapped it up as a teenager,
propelled as I was at the time into a confusing world. Such things were
comforting. Perhaps that’s even part of the reason why Judaism appealed to me
so much at that time as well. The Bible certainly contains nuance in terms of
interpretation, but in terms of morality, not so much. There’s God’s way and
then there’s the wrong way. You’re either for God or you’re not. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Shabbat
Zachor is the epitome of that. The Shabbat before Purim, we read from two
scrolls – one for the weekly Torah reading and one to read of Amalek. Remember
what Amalek did to you, we read. The connection with Purim is because the Book
of Esther (3:1) says that Haman was a descendant of Agag, which was the name of
the King of Amalek. To quote Aish HaTorah’s commentary on this, “Haman’s desire
to wipe out the Jewish people was an expression of his long-standing national
tradition.” Indeed, they say that “Amalek attacked the Jews out of pure hatred
– Amalek lived in a distant land and was under no imminent threat.” In other
words, Jews good, Amalekites evil. It’s really a very simple system of
morality.</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">With
such a mindset, of course, one can excuse all sorts of horror because it’s done
in the name of righteousness. So, ethnic cleansing – which is basically what
Torah commands of the ancient Israelites as they go into the land – is seen as
a righteous endeavor. The consolidation of evil into one convenient package outside
of the self carries with it the potential for evil itself. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It also makes dialogue virtually impossible.
Midrash tells us that when Esau was getting old he called his grandson Amalek and
told him that he was unable to kill Jacob but now he entrusted the mission of
exterminating them to him and to his descendants. It’s actually a disturbing
story because it means that anyone descended from Amalek is immediately assumed
to be a potential murderer of Jews. Politically, this has carried into
modernity, with repeated references by Israeli right-wingers to Palestinians
being descendants of Amalek. The consolidation of evil dehumanizes, which in
turn leads to the potential acts of evil I mentioned before.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Aish
HaTorah’s commentary is explicit in the difference between Jews and Amalekites.
It quotes Talmud’s response to Amalek, particularly one word – Amalek <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">happened</i> (or in Hebrew, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">karcha</i>) upon you (Deut. 25:18). It explains
that word means coincidence, so Amalek is associated with randomness and
subjective thought, while being a Jew means believing in absolutes. Life doesn’t
happen by chance, as Amalekites think, but rather everything happens because
God wills it. There are consequences to this kind of thinking. If you believe
that God determines everything, then great, you’re good. But if you don’t, if
you dare to think that God doesn’t control all and that sometimes bad things
just happen, then even if you don’t intend to kill Israelites, you’re still
basically acting or at least thinking like an Amalekite. This is taking things
even further, from judging an entire people according to their deeds to know
judging them by their thoughts, even if they haven’t expressed them! </span></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Amalek
therefore became the symbol of human evil in Judaism. Torah and then Talmud
consolidate evil into one people who, most importantly, they felt were still
amongst them. Was Haman Amalek? Was Rome Amalek? Were the Crusaders Amalek? Was
Hitler Amalek? Basically, anyone who opposed Judaism was connected in their
evil behavior. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">I
have a number of profound difficulties with this. Firstly, Judaism firmly
believes in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">teshuvah</i>, in returning to
God, or repentance. It believes that no-one is born wicked and that everyone
has free will. And yet at the same time, it holds that the descendants of
Amalek not only act in certain ways, but even think in certain ways. It
essentially shuts off any possibility of atonement for anyone descended from
Amalek.</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">A
second difficulty is the blatant racism of it. Sure, differing cultures around
the world view the world differently, their understanding of reality and of
humanity is different. But the very idea that there is one race of people who
are hell-bent on evil is textbook racism. Our traditional was profoundly
racist. Does that mean we’re bound to its racism? Of course not, but we have to
acknowledge that millions of Jews around the world who take it literally feel
that they are bound to that code of ethics and aren’t even aware that it is racism.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">A
third difficult with this is that it gives permission to call anyone evil.
Sure, there are evil people in this world, and indeed a majority of people in
one nation can be led to evil without even realizing it. We have seen this in
recent history. But the idea of Amalek is insidious because it means that
anyone can be accused without any potential recourse. Once someone is labeled a
descendant of Amalek, there is no potential defence that they can provide for
their actions. Whatever they say is an Amalekite lie. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">A
fourth difficulty is that over time Amalek transcended nationalism and in the
eyes of the ultra-Orthodox became a tool for internal Jewish intolerance. As
Aish HaTorah state on their website, <span style="color: black; margin: 0px;">“in describing
the actual battle with Amalek, the Torah says: "When Moses raised his
hand, Israel was stronger. And when Moses lowered his hand, Amalek was
stronger" (Exodus 17:11). Moses' raised hands symbolize the Jews raising
their eyes heavenward in a commitment to God and Torah. "When Moses' hands
are lowered" ― i.e. the Jewish people take a secular approach to life ―
then we lose. It is a direct inverse proportion: Turning away from God
automatically causes Amalek to rise, and vice-versa.” What do they mean by
this? If you are Orthodox, you are with God. If you’re not, you’re Amalek. This
isn’t an appreciation of the nuance of progressive spirituality, I read this as
a declaration of non-Orthodox Jewish communities not only turning from God, but
being as evil as those who would destroy us. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">There
is evil in the world. There is evil in this country. There are people who do
evil things. There are people who were raised to be hateful and violent. We
dare not deny the existence of evil. But consolidating evil and then accusing entire
peoples or groups of being inherently and unchangeably evil or indeed of being
descendants of evil-doers with a continued evil mission… that is a different
thing. That is, perhaps, an evil thing in and of itself. I get that this
country is extremely polarized at the moment, and that individuals are groups
have deliberately been creating such a society for years. And I think we should
call out individuals, or even organizations, that cause harm. But we must at
the same time be aware of when we’re consolidating evil merely because it makes
it easier for us to address a situation, because pointing the finger is far
easier than the difficult discussions and compromises with people with whom we
profoundly disagree that are necessary to bring about social change.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>One of the reasons I am proud to be a Reform
Jew is because I am entitled to think in a modern way, and I am not theologically
or philosophically bound to thinking in divisive ways that disparage entire
peoples, or that can be used to basically call anyone who disagrees with me
evil. Ultimately, when two sides of a profound disagreement both feel entitled
to call each other Amalek, then the term ceases to have any meaningful value at
all, other than to continue hatred. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">So,
this Shabbat Zachor, I’ll remember Amalek. Not as a hate-filled people who went
out of their way to attack the Israelite people, because that literally makes
no sense militarily or politically. Instead, I’ll remember Amalek as a creation
of Torah, as a way of thinking about others that immediately brands them as
evil, and it is that Amalek that I shall try to blot out from the face of the
earth.</span></div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Rabbi Neil Amswychhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05066397096800345665noreply@blogger.com0