Dave Chapelle and the Jews (Parasha Miketz 2023)

This week in our Torah we learn about one of the most successful Jews of all time – Joseph. Although he was the 11th of 12 brothers, his father Jacob placed him above his older siblings. This, of course, led to disaster as his brothers were consumed by envy and sought to rid themselves of him. Sold as a slave in Egypt, Joseph became the chief steward in the home of Potiphar. In prison in Egypt, the chief jailer put Joseph in charge of all the prisoners.  Finally, Pharaoh put Joseph in charge of all of Egypt! Clearly a story of Jewish success we could say. 

“Jewish success” was one of the subjects comedian Dave Chapelle broached when he hosted Saturday Night Live a few weeks ago.  Most likely many of you knew Chapelle’s monologue caused quite a stir in Jewish circles.  His appearance on Saturday Night Live came on the heels of the brou-ha-ha stirred up by the antisemitic comments of Kanye West and the tweet of an antisemitic movie by the basketball player Kyrie Irving. Some commentators thought that Chapelle’s monologue was itself antisemitic. Others considered it a brilliant, bold, courageous social commentary by a great American comedian.

“Early in my career I learned that there were 2 words in the English language that you should never say together in sequence, and those words are “The” and “Jews”.... I never heard anyone do good after they said that.” 

“It's a big deal,'' Chappelle continued. “He (Kanye West) had broken the show business rules. You know, the rules of perception. If they're Black, then it's a gang. If they're Italian, it's a mob, but if they're Jewish, it's a coincidence and you should never speak about it.” 

Kanye West railed against perceived injustices perpetrated against him by Jews in Hollywood. Chapelle:  “I have been to Hollywood… and there are a lot of Jews…like a lot.” Chapelle went on to say that if you visited Hollywood, you might develop the “delusion that Jews run Hollywood. It’s not a crazy thing to think….but it's a crazy thing to say out loud in a climate like this.”

First, let me say that I do not think any of these comments I just quoted are untrue. There are a lot of Jews in Hollywood. It is no coincidence!  In the early part of the twentieth century, Jews found themselves unwelcome in more established American industries. Jews migrated to businesses where there were few or no barriers to entrance. One of these was the motion picture industry. Hollywood was essentially founded and operated by Eastern European Jews in the early years, and the large number of Jews in present day Hollywood is a result of the overwhelming predominance of Jews in the early years. 

Jews are proud of the success that we have enjoyed in many areas of American life, and at the same time we are often uncomfortable when that fact is pointed out publicly. Especially, I would say, when a non- Jewish person Jewish brings it up.  Undoubtedly Chapelle is joking about antisemitic tropes that have caused much pain to Jews throughout our very long history – the idea, the popular perception even, that Jews somehow use their success to amass power as a group and then abuse that power to gain advantage for their own group at the expense of others in society. Chapelle is also laying bare the unfortunate reality that this is what many people still think, still believe but they dare not say. 

Chapelle touches on a source of both pride and wariness in the Jewish community.  We are proud that until recently one third of the Supreme Court was Jewish, we are proud that Jews have been successful in many, many professions, in business, in arts, in industry, in journalism, in science, in banking and so on. Jews play an outsized role in many areas of American life. Jews have been awarded 23% of Nobel prizes while comprising .2% of the world population. While comprising 2% of the American population, Jews own one half of NBA teams, one third of NFL teams and are prominent in the leadership of Major League Baseball. What gives? 

Why have Jews been so successful? A popular theory posits that in the Middle Ages Jews were prohibited from owning land and participating in craft guilds. Therefore, Jews could not earn their living as farmers or craftsmen. They were thus forced into becoming moneylenders, bankers and financiers because Christians were prohibited from lending money at interest. In other words, Jews were forced to do the “dirty work” of society. In their 2013 book The Chosen Few– a National Jewish Book Award recipient – Maristella Botticini and Zvi Eckstein challenge this idea as they set out to answer this question: why are Jews, a comparatively small group in world's population, so economically and intellectually accomplished and prominent in Western societies? 

Botticini and Eckstein note that with the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, Judaism evolved from a Jerusalem-centered sacrificial system to a text- based rabbinic tradition. In order to fully participate in Rabbinic Judaism, Jewish men needed to become literate. Thus, Jews as a group developed the skills to read and write, to understand, to conceptualize, whereas other groups remained largely illiterate but for the scholarly class. This mass literacy gave Jews the skill set to abandon low paying agricultural work and move to cities where they could engage in more profitable work in commerce. The authors of this study reject the conventional idea that Jews went into moneylending and commerce because they were excluded from owning land and participating in craft guilds. Rather, they maintain that Jews chose banking and money lending because they had the “key assets” to be successful in these financially rewarding endeavors: These assets included

• Capital already accumulated through trade and craftsmanship

• The ability to network with fellow Jews who lived in different countries

• Literacy, the ability to work with written word as well as numbers, and institutions that could be used to resolve disputes and enforce contracts in the form of rabbinic courts. 

Thus, the rabbis and scholars who transformed Judaism from an agrarian, Temple based sacrificial system to a religion of literacy had a profound effect on the destiny of the Jewish people, and the world, to the present time. Our tradition of study of Jewish texts, from Torah to Talmud, our thinking of the meanings of its messages, our openness to listening, to analyzing and to grappling with multiple interpretations of difficult concepts certainly gives us an advantage when it comes to pursuing excellence in academics, science, law and business. Perhaps the importance of this text tradition is best exemplified by a story told about Nobel Laureate Isidor Rabi. Asked to account for how he became a scientist, he replied, “My mother made me a scientist without ever intending it. Every other mother would ask her child after school: 'So? Did you learn anything today?' But not my mother. She always asked me a different question. 'Izzy,' she would say, 'did you ask a good question today?' That difference - asking good questions -made me become a scientist!''

That difference is one of the keys to Jewish success.

Shabbat Shalom

Dwelling in Tents Parasha Vayeshev 5783

Our parasha for this week continues the story of Jacob. Of all of our Biblical ancestors, with the exception of David, Jacob leads the most tumultuous life. He struggles with his brother in the womb, deceives his father, steals the blessing reserved for the first born and must flee his home to escape the anger of his brother who has threatened to kill him. He is in turn deceived by his father-in-law, Laban, into working three times longer for his wife Rachel as he had agreed. He marries two sisters who are rivals with one another for his affection, takes their maid servants as wives as well, and sires 12 sons and a daughter. His daughter is kidnapped and raped and his sons’ violent response to that event make him fear for his own life and the lives of his loved ones.

Our Torah reading opens with the words, “Jacob settled in the land”. From the use of the word, “settled” the rabbis deduce that Jacob finally believed that, after all his troubles, he had finally found peace and tranquility in his life. The midrash has G-d criticizing Jacob for asking for too much.  “Isn’t it enough to know that the righteous will have tranquility in the World to Come? You expect peace and tranquility in this world as well?”   In fact, no sooner does Jacob “settle down” than his favorite son Joseph is sold into slavery and his much sought-after tranquility is shattered.

In telling this story, the Rabbis are delivering a rather demoralizing message. Hasn’t Jacob merited some sense of respite and peace after his tumultuous life? Is not, as Psalm 97 just declared, “Light sown for the righteous, happiness for the upright”?  The answer is no, they say, to be righteous is to be in turmoil, at least in this world!  There should be no expectation of tranquility in this world for the pious. For good, principled, upstanding and decent people, there can be no rest, no happiness. That is asking too much. One's reward will come after death. 

Surely you are wondering: Are the rabbis saying that good people must live their lives in pain? 

Fortunately, we have other sources which praise Jacob for seeking to live his life in peace. Rabbi Erin Leib Smokler, who is the Director of Spiritual Development at Maharat, the first institution to ordain Orthodox women as clergy, notes that Jacob is first introduced to us as “an innocent/pure/complete man (an “ish tam”) dwelling in tents”. This contrasts to his brother Esau, who is a “man of the fields”. The rabbis wonder why Jacob is described as “dwelling in tents” [plural] rather than “a man who dwells in a tent”. [singular]. Rabbi Smokler then cites R. Yosef Gikatilla, a 13th century Spanish Kabbalist who explains that Jacob “dwelling in tents” means that Jacob represents a “middle way” between two competing extremes. Jacob straddles the tent of Abraham, his grandfather, who represents strict justice – Din. On the other side of Jacob is the tent of his father Isaac, who represents mercy and kindness, or Chesed. Jacob is able to balance “justice” with “mercy”. He is able to hold contradictions, to embrace the tension of two conflicting legacies, within himself. He is able to tolerate paradox and unite opposites and still maintain his integrity, his sense of oneness and wholeness. 

The opening of our parasha finds Jacob unknowingly on the precipice of a cataclysmic event in his life which is the disappearance of his favorite son Joseph. In his poem, “The Second Coming”, written in the wake of the massive destruction of World War l, William Butler Yeats gives us a vision of a world on the verge of disintegration:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

We too often experience our world as a world where “the center cannot hold”. Climate change, mass migration, the threat of nuclear war, gun violence, food insecurity, and the like, all threaten to pull our world apart at the seams, “to loose anarchy upon the world”.  In such circumstances, can anyone hope to transcend the pain of existence?  To achieve nirvana? That kind of “peace” is not granted by G-d in our tradition.  However, Rabbi Smolker concludes, the alternative is not that we live our lives in constant pain or in constant apprehension of impending disaster. Rather, when it feels to us that “things are falling apart” we must remain “centered” so that we maintain our convictions about the sacredness and value of life. The “peace” of the righteous is an active, effortful form of sitting, of “dwelling” --more conscious, more alive to accepting that we live in a world of contradictions and ambiguities, that we too dwell between ohalim (tents). Like Jacob, instead of being pulled apart by the tensions between these poles and losing our sense of purpose, or, alternatively, of seeking refuge in the certitudes of fanaticism, seeking “peace” means finding an equilibrium that will serve as a force that binds these tensions, and our world, together. 

Shabbat Shalom

 

The Joys and Challenges of Being a Rabbi

 

I want to thank Congregation Beth Shalom President, Michael Rabin and our vice-President Elizabeth Sigale, for organizing this night of Clergy Appreciation. Rabbis, in “Jewish”, are called “Rabbonim” and Cantors are called “Chazonim”. The word for “Jewish Clergy” in Hebrew is “Klei Kodesh”. This phrase means, “Holy Vessels”. Although Rabbis and Cantors have different roles and responsibilities in a congregation, this rather daunting term – Klei Kodesh – describes the aspirations of both Rabbis and Cantors to transmit the history, wisdom, ethics, beliefs and practices of the Jewish people to those who seek it.  Being a Klei Kodesh, a “Holy Vessel” brings with it its own joys and challenges. I would like to share some of those with you tonight from my vantage point as a Rabbi.

I once read that rabbis' longevity with their congregations is about the same as that of head coaches in professional football with their teams. That is if you are Bill Belichick and have Tom Brady as your quarterback, or you are Mike Tomlin and have Ben Rothlisberger as your quarterback, you can coach for twenty plus years for the same team. When you have a great quarterback, you win a lot of games, and you are known as a great coach. However, the average length of work for an NFL coach on a team is 4.3 seasons. That is better than a major league baseball manager, whose average length of tenure is 3.7 seasons! I don’t know if there are any statistics for the length of the average rabbi's tenure, but one of our challenges is building a long-term relationship with a congregation. For many of us, our lives are as shaky as, as  …….. Well, as a A Fiddler on the Roof! 

Another challenge of being a rabbi is expressed in our siddur, our prayer book. At the conclusion of the set of prayers known as the Amidah, there is a prayer that begins, “Keep my tongue from speaking evil”. It was the custom of ancient Rabbis to recite a personal prayer at the conclusion of their recitation of the Amidah, after “Sim Shalom”. This is why the prayer is in the singular, “keep my tongue from speaking evil”. The Talmud gives examples of the personal prayers that the earliest Rabbis would recite after the Amidah. “Upon completing the Amidah Rabbi Yochanan would say…..Rabbi Zera would say …..Rabbi Hiyya would say……Rav would say…. And so forth.  The prayer that the rabbis, who organized the siddur, chose to place at the conclusion of the Amidah was written by Mar son of Ravina, a sage who lived in the 4th century CE. I think it hints at some of the challenges that they found being a rabbi in their own time that are still relevant today. 

Let me quote from the first part of this prayer. 

My God, keep my tongue from speaking evil and my lips from lies. Help me ignore those who slander me. May I be humble before all. Open my heart to your Torah…..Frustrate the designs of those who plot against me, make nothing of their schemes…….

Now let’s take that apart:

One of the challenges of being a rabbi is to remain humble. A rabbi is a spiritual leader and thus a representative of God. We are, after all, “vessels of holiness”! I remember one preschooler asking me if I WAS God! Rabbis need to guard against feelings of entitlement, haughtiness and arrogance. But the other extreme is equally problematic and that is  –  Excessive humility, which is not humility at all, but rather, an abdication of responsibility. Moses, the first rabbi, is described in the Torah as the most humble person who ever lived. Yet, he was anything but humble when he faced the rebellion of Korah. Striking the right balance between assertiveness and humbleness is a challenge every rabbi faces. 

The prayer also describes a second challenge which is   encountered by figures in positions of leadership in any institution. Politics is inherent in any group, in any community and in many spheres of life. Sometimes factions arise in synagogue life. Sometimes, like Moses, rabbis even have to face rebellions! The challenge then is for the rabbi to control their own response, especially their speech. The rabbi prays to God for help so that he or she can restrain themselves from striking back in kind. 

 

Despite the challenges – and there are many more – being a rabbi is a privilege and a blessing. In what other walk of life can one be so involved in the life of a community and the families of that community. Rabbis are invited to participate in the most important times in the lives of individuals and families. When a baby is born, we join in the bris or the naming ceremony; when someone is sick in the hospital, we visit them and provide comfort; we celebrate with a family when there is a bar or bat mitzvah or bnai mitzvah. We grieve along with congregants when there is a loss. We teach young children and teens in our Hebrew schools; we teach adults as well. We rejoice with couples at their wedding ceremonies; we provide counsel for families who are experiencing difficulties. A rabbi is involved outside of their synagogue community as well. Rabbis teach at the college level, represent our faith in interfaith forums, our voice is important in social justice issues. A rabbi gets to set aside time each week to study, to read and to think in order to write sermons and to teach. As a rabbi I have been privileged to lead our congregation to Israel and Central Europe on educational trips. I have also traveled extensively to Europe and to Israel and even Africa to learn firsthand about the history, challenges and successes of Jewish communities in far off places. A rabbi wears so many different hats – it never gets boring! 

On this special night when Congregation Beth Shalom recognizes the clergy that has served you so well throughout the years, I need to say that it has been an honor and a privilege to serve as your Rabbi for these 14 plus years. Thank you and   

Shabbat Shalom

Parasha Bereisheet Why Did God Create People?

Since September I have been going to the pre-school occasionally, to meet with the children. I have  answer their questions, celebrated Havdalah, played the guitar, sounded the shofar, taught them about the lulav and etrog, ate with them at their Succoth party and on and on and on…. I see them in the hallway,  do Hi Fives and fist bumps, bid them “Shabbat Shalom”. The children have gotten to know me,  have become comfortable with me and trust me.  Last week a four-year-old boy saw me in the hallway and ran up to me. “Rabbi,” he said excitedly, “Yesterday at home I wore a yalmulke -- and I pretended that I was YOU”!  What I gift!!! That made my day, let me tell you. Kids say the darndest things, as Art Linkletter used to say.  Last week at Sunday School a fourth grader asked me, “Rabbi, Why did G-d create people?”

That Shabbat we read the story of Creation, so it was a timely question. The fact is, the Torah does not tell us why G-d created people, or for that matter, why G-d created the world. All we can say for certain is that it is G-d’s will that there is “something” instead of “nothing”. However, the question called for an answer, so I gave the best one I could – G-d created people so that we can be partners with G-d in making our world a better world. G-d needs our help to complete the work of creation. Each time we do a mitzvah, it pleases G-d and brings our world closer to the way it is meant to be.

Yes, G-d has high hopes for humanity. Yet, in our Torah reading for this week, we see G-d very disappointed in his creatures, that is in us. Far  from being partners with G-d in making the world more perfect, human beings have become corrupt and have turned their backs on G-d. G-d regrets that he created the world, and it looks as though G-d is going to turn the world back into the primordial chaos from which it emerged. G-d finds one person, Noah, who is worthy of saving.  G-d commands Noah to build an ark where he can save himself, his family, and a male  and female  of every kind from extinction.

We all know the story. The world is destroyed by a flood and after forty days Noah, his family and all of the surviving animals emerge from the ark and begin life anew in the world. It is a fresh start. G-d gives Noah and his children laws to live by, which the Rabbis called the “Seven Noahide Laws”. These can serve as a guardrail against falling into the level of corruption and depravity to which humankind once descended. G-d also shows Noah a rainbow, a sign that G-d will never again destroy the world. Noah plants a vineyard. Then something very strange happens to this most righteous man in the world. He gets drunk on the wine made from the grapes of the vineyard. We may judge Noah harshly for this if we forget that he likely has no experience with alcohol. How can he know that fermented grape juice can have this effect on a person? Noah no doubt learns from his first experience with wine what it can do when imbibed to excess. Humankind will come to understand from then on that it is best to drink with moderation.

Noah’s experience with wine is paradigmatic for how human beings will deal with other novel situations we will encounter throughout history. G-d gave us the capacity to reason and to learn from experience. Humankind will inevitably make mistakes when confronting novel situations and serious challenges. 

 In the 18^th century, England experienced an unprecedented growth in population due to a decrease in the mortality rate.  Toward the end of that century an English minister named Thomas Malthus predicted that human population growth will inevitably outstrip world food supply, leading to worldwide starvation, disease, death and a collapse of civilization. This, he reasoned, is because human population growth increases exponentially, while food supply increases only linearly. The concern about overpopulation raised by Malthus led to tragic mistakes in dealing with the problem. Cruel laws such as the English Poor Law of 1834 were enacted which curtailed food aid to the poor. Providing food to the poor only encourages the poor to have more children, the monarchy reasoned, leading to more poor people and the need for even more food aid. The Potato Famine in Ireland in 1840 was seen by some British government officials as “an effective way of reducing surplus population”.  Another example -- Forced sterilization programs in the United States in the 1920s were also viewed as a means of population control. In our own day China’s one child program was a policy designed to coerce people to have smaller families in order to control population growth. It was the “Green Revolution” of the 1960’s with its development of high yielding rice and wheat, introduction of irrigation techniques, modernization of management and use of pesticides that ultimately is credited addressing the problem effectively. The “Green Revolution” is estimated to have saved a billion people worldwide from starvation.  In other words, humanity finally found a humane solution to the problem! Many experts worldwide believe that in  the future we should meet the challenges of population growth by raising standards of living worldwide, educating women, and providing birth control, all of which have been shown to reduce family size and put less pressure on resources.

Humankind faces many formidable challenges in the future including nuclear proliferation and climate changes. We must not despair of solving these problems. Like the properties of the grape and the challenges of human population growth, the consequences of modern technology must be learned about through experience.  Solutions are found through trial and error. Crises need not lead to a second destruction of our world. Rather, with our G-d given power of reasoning, and in partnership with G-d we can complete the work of creation. In doing so we answer the question by our fourth grader. Why did G-d create people?

Shabbat Shalom

The Importance of Friends Parasha Re-eh

As many of you know, I recently  attended my 50 year High School reunion. A classmate and I were marveling at the durability and strength of our ties to one another. Many of us have so many overlapping relationships. We were neighbors of each other, we attended the same public schools, we attended the same Hebrew school, the same synagogue, we went to Boy Scout camp together, we were part of the same youth groups, the same high school fraternities.  Our parents may have been friends with each other, some of us were even related to one another. 

My childhood friends were very influential in my life. My parents never attended synagogue on Shabbat morning. I only began to attend synagogue on Shabbat because I wanted to be with my friends. When I was 10 years old my friends began to attend a class to learn how to chant Torah in the Junior Congregation. I had no idea what it meant to chant Torah, as I had never even been to Junior Congregation, but I went with my friends and found that I could be pretty good at it. That in turn led to some opportunities for leadership in the Junior Congregation. I can honestly say that my friends played not a small  part in my being a Rabbi today. 

A recently published study by Dr.  Raj Chetty, a professor of Public Economics at Harvard University, speaks to the oversized influence that childhood friends can have on one's life. He found that children from less well-off families who had friendships that cut across class lines were better off financially as adults compared to those who did not have such friendships. He found that cross-class friendships are a better predictor of upward mobility than school quality, job availability, community cohesion or family structure.The journalist  David Brooks suggests that one of the reasons for this is that friendships help us see ourselves differently. According to him, if I have smart, talented friends, then I might see myself as smart and talented. If my friends are ambitious, it might help to make me more ambitious. If my friends expect to go to college and study for a professional degree, then I might want and expect that of myself as well. We learn to see the world, and ourselves, through our friends' eyes, and this expands our horizons and our understanding of the possibilities open to us.

Our  parasha  of the week highlights that friendships with the wrong people can lead to negative consequences in our lives. Friends can also be bad influences. The Torah cautions us that  should our closest friend entice us into idolatry, saying, “Come let us worship other gods, “ we should distance ourselves immediately. 

To paraphrase Harper Lee, the author of “To Kill a Mockingbird”,  “We may not be able to choose our family, but we can choose our friends.” We are born into families and we have to make the best of it. At work we are randomly placed with others with the same or complementary skills. Only our friends can we freely choose. 

At the beginning of our parasha this week, Moses tells the People of Israel that each of them has a choice they can make. “See,” he says, “I set before you a blessing and a curse.” By this Moses means that there are two paths of life that one can take. One path leads to a life of blessing and well being  and the other path leads to hardship and affliction. As the Harvard study suggests, the friendships one makes early in life can influence which path one will take. 

In Pirke Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers, Yehoshua ben Perachiah would say: “Appoint yourself a rabbi, acquire for yourself a friend……"   In order to choose the path of life that leads to blessings, one both needs a teacher and a friend. A teacher – to act as a guide in learning. A teacher chooses the material that is most important to learn. A teacher explains ideas and issues that are too difficult to grasp on one's own. A teacher provides feedback and helps the learner  to avoid pitfalls and confusion. It is obvious that one would need a teacher to learn.

But why a friend? A friend is someone who is on a different level relationally than a teacher. There is always a hierarchical distinction between a teacher and a student. There are boundaries that cannot be crossed, conventions that must be upheld, formalities that must be observed, and often an age difference that cannot be bridged. 

But  true friends will  respectfully  critique each other's positions, attitudes, ideologies,  behavior. We see ourselves in a friend in a way that we cannot see ourselves in a teacher. True friends are more tolerant of us, more honest with us, A true friend accepts us for who we are. Friendship is a relationship between equals. 

The story is told of a great Torah scholar from another land who was visiting Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, the first Chief Rabbi of Palestine. The visiting Rabbi asked Rabbi Kook why he was so fond of Reb Aryeh Levin.

The Chief Rabbi answered, “I have three reasons for being fond of him. I have known him for twenty years and in all that time he has 1) never flattered me, and if he saw me do something that he did not understand he questioned it or commented on it. 2) He never once told me of anything said by my fierce opponents, who were continuously denigrating me and defaming me, and 3) Whatever he asked of me, it was never a favor for himself, but only for others.” 

I would like to close with a simple thought. It is one thing to make friends in childhood, or in high school and college where we are living with each other, studying with each other, socializing with each other. It is quite another thing to make good friends in adulthood, when we are immersed in working and raising a family, where we change jobs and move to new communities and have to start over. One of the best places to make friends is by joining a synagogue. By joining I don’t mean just signing up and paying dues – although that is important. By joining I mean really immersing oneself in synagogue life – coming to services regularly, participating in committees, taking a class and becoming deeply involved in communal life. The synagogue is a place where it is possible to forge deep friendships and meaningful relationships in adulthood. Dr. Karen Roberts, a researcher at Virginia Tech University who has studied the effect of friendship on physical and mental health, says, “Friendship is an undervalued resource. Research shows us that friends make your life better.”

Shabbat Shalom

Photograph by Andrew Moca on unsplash.com

 

Friday Night Fiftieth Anniversary Sermon

The organizers of the 50th anniversary celebration of our congregation asked that I connect my sermon tonight to the weekend’s central theme of “superheroes”.  Well, I am always up for a challenge.  The first images that popped into my head when I heard the word ' 'superhero'' were   Spider Man“  “Wonder Woman, “Batmanand “Captain America……… And of course, that       grandfather of all superheroes, Superman. These superheroes however fall in the category of fictional characters with extraordinary powers.

What do these fictional characters have in common? In addition to their physical prowess, they all display moral integrity, bravery, conviction, a sense of responsibility, compassion and a willingness to help and protect others.

Superheroes, both fictional and in real life, come in all shapes and sizes. An American tourist in Tel Aviv was about to enter the impressive Mann Auditorium to take in a concert by the Israel Philharmonic. He was admiring the unique architecture, the sweeping lines of the entrance, and the modern decor throughout the building. Finally he turned to his escort and asked if the building was named for Thomas Mann, the world-famous author.

"No," his friend said, "it's named for Fredric Mann, from Philadelphia."

"Really? I never heard of him. What did he write?" the tourist asked.

"A check," was the reply. 

Who doesn't remember Mickey Mantle, the New York Yankee outfielder and perhaps the greatest switch hitter of all time. He finished his career with a prodigious 536 home runs and a .298 batting average.   As a little boy I treasured my Mickey Mantle baseball card depicting his hitting the longest home run in baseball history at the time, 643 feet to right field at Briggs Stadium in Detroit. Mickey Mantle was one of baseball’s greats, but he was not a perfect human being. He, like all of us, had his flaws. But to me what made him a superhero was not his prodigious talent on the baseball diamond. What makes him a “superhero” and not just a “hero”, what elevates him, in my mind, to a higher status, is not THAT he played the game with such skill, but HOW he played the game of baseball. 

You probably have noticed that today when a player hits a home run he behaves in a certain way. Today many players flip their bat when they hit a home run.  Other players stay at the plate and watch their home run leave the ballpark.  We have all seen players jump up and down after hitting a home run or pump their arms while running around the bases. Yet all of these reactions are considered to be unsportsmanlike and “show-offy” in baseball culture.

But Mickey Mantle, one of the greatest home run hitters of all time, never did any of these things. Instead, when Mantle hit a home run he dropped his bat, ran around the bases, and quietly took his place in the dugout next to his teammates. He was once asked about this and here is how he answered:

“I don’t do that out of respect for the pitcher. Why should I humiliate him by celebrating that I got a homerun off him? After all, when he strikes me out, he doesn’t do a war dance. He doesn’t pound his fist into his glove. He doesn’t carry on like a banshee. So why should I embarrass him when he never embarrasses me?”

Mickey Mantle played the game of baseball like a mensch, and that is what elevates him, for me, to superhero status. He had respect for his opponent. He was concerned about the pitcher’s feelings. He did not raise himself higher by humiliating his adversary. 

 In our Jewish tradition we have many superheroes.  In this week's parsha we read about one of them, Moses.  Moses has led the Jewish people from slavery in Egypt to the border of the Promised Land. He has been their leader for forty years. But God tells him he cannot enter the Land. But Moses protests, he pleads with God for permission to go into the Land of Canaan with his people. We wonder why. After all, Moses by then had led a full life. He was 120 years old.  He is Moses, our greatest prophet. He is the only prophet to speak directly with God. All other prophets before and since communicated with God in a vision or a dream, but not Moses. No human being can “see” God and live, but Moses was privileged to see God’s “back”. So we ask, why did Moses want to enter the Land of Canaan? 

First we need to keep in mind that some of the mitzvot given at Sinai can only be performed in the Land of Israel. They are only possible when the Jewish people are settled in their own land. They could not be observed in the desert. Our rabbis teach that Moses wanted to enter the Land so that he could perform mitzvot in the Land of Israel that he was unable to observe in the wilderness of Sinai.  Even at 120 years of age Moses wanted to grow in his practice of Judaism. Even at 120 years old Moses feels the need to increase his knowledge of Judaism. Even at 120 years old there were new things that Moses wanted to learn. He wasn’t complacent. Even at his age he was not satisfied to bask in the light of his considerable accomplishments. This determination to continue to learn and to grow is one quality that makes Moses a superhero. 

There are many ways to be a superhero. One doesn’t have to be famous to be one. One does not necessarily have to accomplish extraordinary feats. Superheroes can be the teachers who gave us encouragement in school.  The friends who reached out to us or who stood by us when we needed them. The parent who supported us, the neighbor who lent us a hand, the stranger who came to our aid.  People who spoke up on our behalf, who made us feel appreciated, valued or special. Individuals whose stories inspire us. One does not need to endow a building, hit a home run or lead a nation to freedom to be a superhero. As we look around us tonight, we will recognize that we are surrounded by superheroes.

And if you are moved to write a check – that would be nice too!
Shabbat Shalom

 

Setting off on the Journey / Parasha Bamidbar

Our parasha opens with Israel encamped around Mt. Sinai. It has been 25 months since the Exodus from Egypt and they have been at Mt Sinai for a year and a half. It is time for them to set off for the land of their ancestors, the Land of Canaan.

This recalls a cartoon by the artist Mari Andrew. She shows us two identical drawings of a woman, holding a suitcase, staring at the road in front of her. On one side, she stares at an empty road ahead, and the caption reads: “I’m leaving.” The other road leads to a city, with trees and buildings, and clearly a sense of excitement. That caption reads: “I’m expanding.”

As we embark on a new journey, we often have two disparate feelings. One, a sense of discomfort, of anxiety, and of loss as we uproot ourselves from the familiar and normal routines of our lives and set off on to a destination we do not know.  

We can imagine our ancestors at Mt. Sinai having to choose which road to take… we can imagine their having  a sense of  dread and foreboding, as elsewhere in the Bible the Wilderness of Sinai is described as:

…..A land of deserts and pits,

A land of drought and darkness,

A land no man had traversed,

Where no human being had dwelt…

We can also imagine the Israelites at Mount Sinai having  a sense of hope,  of new possibilities  awaiting.  us. Indeed, it is in The Wilderness that the Israelite receive the Torah and where they develop their relationship with G-d. Why would G-d choose such an inhospitable, barren and forbidding place to give the Jewish people the Torah? We declare in our Torah service – Ki Mitzion Tetze Torah , which means that – The Torah “goes out” to the world from Jerusalem. Yet, God decided to give the Torah to the Jewish people in the wilderness. Would it not have been better to wait until they reached the Holy Land to bestow the Holy Torah upon the Holy People?

Our Rabbis teach that the Torah was given in the wilderness because just as nobody owns the wilderness, so no people have exclusive right to the Torah. We can own the Torah, but we are not its owners. It is free and is open to all. One does not have to be Jewish to learn from or be inspired by the Torah.  

This is a lesson to take to heart when it comes to our non-Jewish  family members, friends, neighbors… Maybe some of us think of their participation in our rituals and celebrations as primarily supporting roles in our Jewish spiritual lives or our sense of belonging to the community. Less often, perhaps, do we consider their participation as having a personal meaning for them.  One non-Jewish woman commented that when she recited the Shema with her Jewish family, she was reminded of the Jews throughout history who could not recite this prayer in safety and security. She also noted that the Shema was something she could say about God that felt true and authentic to her. Jewish practice and study can be nourishing and sustaining, can provide a sense of belonging and believing, not just to Jews but to non Jews as well . . At our synagogue we often host guests during services from different colleges and different religious backgrounds. In the process of learning more about Jewish prayer and ritual, they also learn a little Torah. Some go on to study with us on a weekly basis. Some come a few times; others, for years to study Torah with us.

 If any person comes to study Torah out of a search for truth, or to deepen his or her relationship to G-d, then they should be encouraged to explore the wisdom that Judaism has to offer. The Torah, as it states in the Book of Deuteronomy, is a “Morasha Kehillat Ya-akov” – “A precious inheritance of the Jewish People”. It is an inheritance worth sharing with the rest of humanity.

Shabbat Shalom

 Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash

 

A Reflection on the Texas School Shooting

     

 Yet once again the nation is shuddering and reeling after the massacre of 19 elementary school children, second, third and fourth graders, and two of their teachers, on May 24, at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. This occurs on the heels of the massacre of ten Black Americans, on May 17, doing their grocery shopping in Buffalo NY. This school shooting is the  27th this year and the 212th mass shooting in the United States since the beginning of 2022.

 

There are no words to convey how incomprehensible this is, how  shaming it feels that mass murder has become a predictable part of American life. Our hearts go out to the parents that are experiencing the unimaginable grief of losing a child to violence; to the brothers and sisters of those who were killed whose lives are forever changed; to the teachers and fellow students of the Robb Elementary school who will carry the trauma of the day for the rest of their lives. Our prayers are with  the thousands more who are re-experiencing the loss of loved ones to gun violence. How scary to think that our own children and grandchildren are not safe when we send them to school, that we are not safe in our synagogues and churches and mosques, that we are not safe on the streets,  supermarkets, parks, and theaters of our communities.  

 

A letter written by Albert Einstein in April 1945 captures the mood of our country today. Einstein wrote this to friends who had unexpectedly lost a child: “When the unexpected course of everyday life is interrupted, we realize that we are like shipwrecked people trying to keep their balance on a miserable plank in the open sea, having forgotten where they came from and not knowing whither they are drifting”.

 

This seems to me to be an apt description of our nation at this time. We seem to have forgotten where we came from. We are adrift at sea, not knowing where we are going. What do we say to ourselves and to each other, about this horrific tragedy and about the direction of our country?  How does Judaism sustain us at times like this? 

 

A fundamental Jewish belief is the belief in human freedom. “We are what we choose to be,” writes Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. “Society is what we choose to make it. The future is open. There is nothing inevitable in the affairs of humankind……..To be a Jew is to be an agent of hope in a world serially threatened by despair.”

 

To be a Jew is to believe that things can get better and that we have the power to help make it better. To be a Jew is a protest against the blind acceptance of fate and an affirmation of the ability of the human will to mold the world into how it should be, how it could be. To be a Jew is to turn our sense of helplessness into action, our anger into deed, to allow our fears to give way to hope. 

 

Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph

Be Mindful and Multiply (Parasha Tazriah/5782)

 

I am going to do something tonight that I have never done before when delivering a sermon. I am going to deliver a sermon I have delivered before. Well, that is not quite true. What I have never done before is to TELL YOU that I am giving a sermon that I have given before! And yet… Even that is not exactly true. The sermon I am about to give is an update of a sermon I gave ten years ago. I need to update it because so much has changed over the past ten years since I originally delivered it to you.

Recently I met in my office with a young Jewish couple who were trying to find a rabbi to marry them. After getting to know one another, they asked me to perform the ceremony, and I readily agreed.  They then asked me a question.  “What are your non-negotiables? “ Non-negotiables, I asked, what did that mean?  They told me that other rabbis they had met with had "non-negotiable" demands from the couple in order to perform the marriage.  One rabbi insisted they meet with him for pre-marital counseling over a series of sessions.  Another wanted them to undergo psychological testing for marriage readiness.  A third insisted they see a financial advisor before the wedding.  Without thinking much about it, I told them I had no "non-negotiables".  This couple, in their early thirties, had been dating for ten years and living together for five.  They were pretty experienced as a couple.  Then I realized that I did have one "non-negotiable".  Before I performed the ceremony, I said, I wanted them to get screened for Jewish Genetic Disorders. 

In fact, genetic screening should be a routine part of planning a wedding for any Jews of Ashkenazi or Sephardi descent who intend to have a family.  The reasons? At least one in four individuals in the Ashkenazi Jewish population is a carrier for a "Jewish" genetic disorder.  Although not as prevalent,  these disorders are also more common in Individuals of Sephardi Jewish descent -- those whose ancestors are from Spain, Portugal, North Africa, the Mediterranean or the Middle East. Twenty years ago, we were able to test for only four disorders.  Today,  we are able to test for fifty-one conditions for individuals  of Jewish ancestry. In addition we can also test for  210 other conditions that are inherited in a recessive fashion and can be tested for. 

This recommendation does not apply only to those who identify as Jewish. Being of Ashkenazi or Sephardi descent means that you have one Jewish grandparent. And although genetic disorders are more prevalent in Jewish individuals, non-Jews may also carry recessive genes for these disorders. Therefore, even those Jewish men and women who are planning to have a child with a partner who is not Jewish should consider genetic testing. 

By now you may be wondering why I am speaking about this on this Shabbat.  This week's parasha, Tazria, deals primarily with a skin affliction called Tzara'at in Hebrew. This is commonly translated as "leprosy".  The rabbis felt that one could prevent Taara'at and other afflictions either by abstaining from spiritual trespasses, like gossip, or by looking after our health and the health of our families.  In the case of Jewish genetic disorders, knowledge is the key to prevention, and  fortunately we are  capable of educating those who we care for the most.

How does one go about getting screened?  Ten years ago, when I spoke to you about this, I encouraged couples to attend a dinner at a Northbrook synagogue sponsored by the Sarnoff Center for Jewish Genetics. The dinner cost $180 and couples could attend an educational presentation and get tested there. Ten years later. Ie.today,  there is no need to schlepp up to Northbrook, no need to shell out $180 for dinner, no need to socialize with other people. Today, the first step is to register online at the Sarnoff Center for Jewish Genetics. Once you register, you are directed to an online education program that prepares you for the testing. One or both individuals then provide a saliva sample and mail it to a laboratory for testing. In two to three weeks a genetic counselor calls with the test results and provides  counseling if necessary. 

Ten years ago, the cost of this screening could be upwards of $3000. Today, the cost for those with health insurance will be just $49 per person. 

A couple does not have to go through the Sarnoff Center for Jewish Genetics to get tested. Unlike ten years ago, today companies offer carrier screening panels through direct-to-consumer (DTC) testing. This means that you order the testing yourself through their website, and results are released to you directly. The Sarnoff Center’s program differs through its educational component, a one-on-one phone call to make sure you understand the testing process and can have any questions or concerns addressed. They also offer a follow-up with the Center’s genetic counselor to ensure you understand the results.

As we pursue the mitzvah of "be fruitful and multiply" it is crucial that we remember the role of genetic testing and counseling in helping couples make informed decisions about their family's future.  Knowledge is indeed power.  Please do your part to get the word out so that these preventable diseases can indeed be prevented.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph   

Photo by Sangharsh Lohakare on Unsplash

                

The Hidden Meaning of Keeping Kosher? Parasha Shemini/5782

 

In one of our most beloved prayers at Friday night services, Ahavat Olam, we sing the following: “Torah u-mitzvoth, chukim u-mishpatim, otanu limadetah” – “You teach us torah, mitzvoth, chukim and mishpatim”. We all know what torah and mitzvoth are! “Torah” in this prayer stands for all of Jewish learning, not just Bible learning. Mitzvoth, of course, are the good deeds that govern our behavior. “Chukim” and “Mishpatim” are subsets of “Mitzvoth”. Mishpatim are the Mitzvoth for whose reasons are readily understood.  For example,“You shall not murder”, or mitzvoth that enjoin us to take care of the poor and needy in our society – without these “mishpatim”, these laws, society cannot function. “Chukim” are the laws that, as Rashi puts it, are like “decrees from a King”. No society would think to implement these laws unless they came from an absolute ruler. An example of this kind of law is found in this week’s Torah portion.

Without attempting to justify or elaborate, our parasha this week gives a lengthy list of foods which are Kosher and those which are not. Since very early in our history, Kashrut laws have been at the very center of our heritage.  The Rabbis classified these laws as "Chukim", laws that had to be obeyed although they transcend human understanding. Why, for example, if G-d is the Creator of All, and pronounced all of Creation “good” does G-d prohibit Jews from eating some animals? God doesn’t want His people to enjoy shrimp? Can God not suffer the messiness of seeing His Chosen struggling to  extract lobster meat from its shell? The issue is complicated by the fact that the Torah gives no rational reason for the laws of Kashrut. It is like the decree of a King, or the rules of a parent to a toddler – “do it because I say so”. 

The fact that no reasons are given for the laws of kashrut has not stopped Jews throughout the ages from attempting to discover some rationale behind them. One method of understanding kashrut was to allegorize, or understand the kosher laws symbolically.  For example, the Torah only permits us to eat fish with scales and fins. The rabbis of the Talmud noted that scales protect the body of the fish. They are like the fish’s armor, so to speak.  Thus they represent the quality of integrity, that which keeps the human being from falling prey to the many moral pitfalls that life presents. 

The fins propel a fish forward. The fins represent the human drive for achievement, the impulse to make ourselves better, to build our lives, and to make a better world. 

Therefore, one way to understand the commandment to only eat fish with scales and fins is that God wants us to constantly be aware that integrity must always be paired with our drive to accomplish things in this world. A person with ambition but without integrity might become successful, but might achieve that success through “unkosher” ways. A person with integrity but without ambition will never reach their spiritual potential in this world.

To paraphrase  the English poet Samuel Johnson:

"Integrity without [ambition] is weak and useless, and [ambition] without integrity is dangerous and dreadful.”

One danger to this type of inquiry is that we might think that once we have understood the lesson that the law is trying to teach us, we no longer need to follow the law! In fact, one of the earliest Christian writings, the Epistle of Barnabus, concludes that the point of the dietary laws is not to refrain from eating certain foods, it is to teach us ethical and moral values. The laws were never meant to be observed literally, Barnabus claims. Therefore, those Jews who actually observe the laws are misguided.

Ultimately, Jews will choose to follow all of the laws of kashrut, some of the laws of kashrut, or none of the laws of kashrut for their own reasons and own rationales. It is interesting to note that the Torah provides only one reason for following the laws of Kashrut – “I am the Lord your God”. In the words of the 19th century German rabbi and thinker, Samson Raphael Hirsch, “You should observe the commandments of the Torah and have regard for its laws, because they are at God’s behest, not because you think them correct. Even those commandments whose reason you believe you have understood, you should not fulfill because of your understanding, for then you would be listening only to yourself, whereas you should listen to God [alone]”

Shabbat Shalom

Photo by Gregor Moser on Unsplash