Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Shabbat Zachor

Mistakes Christians Sometimes Make about Jews


In our megillah reading tomorrow night, Haman says to King Ahasverus, “There is a certain people- scattered and dispersed among the other peoples in all the provinces of your realm, whose laws are different from those of any other people and who do not obey the king’s laws….”  Those “certain people” are, of course, the Jewish people who Haman wishes to exterminate. Of course, Haman is, at best, misunderstanding the nature of the Jewish people – that we are xenophobic and misanthropic and do not obey the laws of the country in which we reside.  Haman is an anti-Semite, pure and simple. Some of us might be surprised to learn, however, that some of the people in our lives – those who love and respect us – misunderstand Judaism even today.  Of course, one can misunderstand Judaism and NOT be an anti-Semite.  I want to make that perfectly clear.  However, I daresay that even many Jews share these same misunderstandings about Judaism!!  This evening I want to share with you a talk that I attended with Amy Jill Levine. She is s a professor of New Testament and Jewish Studies at Vanderbilt University. Her talk was entitled “The Top Ten Mistakes Christians Make about Jews.” I think you are going to find this subject as interesting as I do. However, tonight I am only going to comment on three of those mistakes.

The first mistake that some Christians have about Judaism is that Judaism is a religion of law, whereas Christianity is a religion of love. If anyone ever tells you this, please remember   that the Hebrew word for “love’ – “Ahava” is used over 250 times in Hebrew scriptures. Some Christians – and unfortunately many Jews, I might add – view Jewish law as a burden.  In fact, Jewish law is a grace, that is, a way for us to be close to G-d, a gift that G-d has given us.  It is a way for us to share common practices that bring us closer together, that cement our common bond.  Many of us had a first-hand experience of how this could work when we went on our family retreat two weeks ago. We had no problem following Jewish law – worshipping at the proper times, eating kosher food, reciting grace after meals, studying sacred texts, turning off all of our electronic devices, not traveling, or shopping and just enjoying being together.  Jesus was a Jewish man who followed Jewish law – he wore tsitsit to remind himself of the law, he kept the Sabbath, and he argued with others about what is the proper observance of the law. One doesn’t argue points of Jewish law if it is not important to you. Archeological remains from the time of Jesus show the presence of Shabbat lamps the existence o, mikvahs and an absence of pig bones, indicating there was widespread adherence to Jewish law. It was the way of life that most people were following. There is no evidence whatsoever that Jews were suffering under some terrible burden of Biblical commandments whose weight they could not bear.

Yet this does not stop the World Council of Churches from writing that at the time of Jesus, “Judaism had encased G-d in its laws and traditions and its ministers could not accept a concept of G-d that went beyond their own limits….” Catholics learn from one of the pre-eminent Catholic theologians of the 20th century, Leonardo Boff, that “in the world as Jesus found it, human beings were under the yoke of the law. Religion was no longer the way that human beings expressed their own openness to G-d -- It had crystallized and stagnated in a world of its own – a world of rights and sacrifices.” Thus, first century Judaism is still portrayed as a fossilized religion in which Jews focused on fulfilling the minutiae of the law without any experience of the spiritual dimension of our faith.

A second mistake that Christians have about Jews concerns mitzvoth, that is, the commandments.  Some Christians are taught and believe that we follow the Torah in order to earn G-d’s love so that we can gain entrance to heaven. This makes us what is termed a “works righteousness religion”.  Based on this, Christians feel sorry for us because they gain heaven through faith alone.  They worry about those Jews who do not follow the mitzvoth – if they are not earning G-d’s love through practice of the mitzvoth, what will their ultimate fate be? This is a misunderstanding of the role of mitzvoth in the lives of the Jew. All Jews are assured a place in heaven, according to no less authority than Maimonides. The Mitzvoth are not given to us to earn G-d’s love – they are given to us as a way to show our love for G-d. This can be compared to the relationship between two spouses.  A husband does not, say, prepare a special dinner for his wife in order to earn her love.  He does it because he loves her. Similarly, we follow mitzvoth because we love G-d, not to earn that love, which has already been freely given.

I will conclude tonight with a third of the ten mistakes that Professor Levine spoke about.  A third mistake is a misunderstanding that Jesus invented the idea of a G-d who is in intimate relationship with human beings. Some even teach that Jesus was the first to call G-d “father”.  It is mistakenly taught that first century Jews worshipped a G-d who was “a remote judge condemning people for infractions over little rules”, as opposed to Jesus, who worships a G-d full of “grace, compassion, forgiveness and love.” That comparison was on one made by President Jimmy Carter on his Bible Tape. Of course, Jesus did not discover the G-d of grace, compassion, forgiveness and love. Jesus was already part of a tradition that understood G-d as a G-d of grace, compassion, forgiveness and love—the Jewish tradition!  He was Jewish, after all, and he knew his Jewish texts, for example:

“G-d is the father of orphans and the just judge of widows… who provides a home for the lonely”. (Psalm 68:5)

“He shall say to me, ‘You are my father, my G-d, the Rock of my Salvation.” (Psalm 89:27)

“Now, O Lord, you are our Father ….. we are the work of your hands.” (Isaiah 64:7)

“They shall come with weeping, and with compassion I will guide them, for I am ever a Father to Israel.” (Jeremiah 31:9)

Perhaps these misunderstandings stem from the fact that although Christians might know that Jesus was Jewish they do not authentically understand what that truly means in terms of his formative years, his development, his practices and the historical, cultural and religious contexts of his life. Unfortunately this is seldom taught or even noted in various religious communities. Scholars like Professor Amy Jill Levine are working to correct this by bringing it to the attention of seminaries that ordain religious leaders. She has written a book readily accessible to the non-expert, The Scandal of the Jewish Jesus, which expands on this line of thinking. It behooves us all to learn more about our religion, as well as what others say and teach about us, so that we are better prepared to meet the challenge of responding to misunderstandings about Judaism.

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

 

 

Thursday, February 27, 2014

A Modern Midrash

This Shabbat I will be away from the synagogue on a Family Retreat with members of Congregation Beth Shalom. We will be spending the weekend at Camp Shai in Wisconsin, just below the North Pole, by my reckoning. This week I am sharing a dvar Torah that I gave on January 17th, 2014, but did not post. 


I often share midrash from the pulpit and in my teaching, but I rarely take the time to explain exactly what midrash is. Tonight I will do just that. Midrash is the name we use to describe the interpretive activity of the Bible as practiced by the Rabbis of the Land of Israel in the first five centuries of the common era. It comes from the root d-r-sh, which means “to inquire” or “to seek after”. There were, according to the rabbis, deeper meanings to the Biblical text than met the eye. These could be discovered by exploring the inconsistencies of the Biblical text, as well as parts of the text that virtually beg us to ask questions.  Midrash is divided by scholars into two types – that concerning legal matters is called Midrash Halacha, and that concerning stories and legends is called Midrash Aggadah.  This latter Midrash, the Midrash Aggadah, often reflected the interests and concerns of the common people who frequented the synagogues of late antiquity. Rabbis used Midrash Aggadah to make the Bible relevant and interesting to non-scholarly audiences who heard the Torah read in their synagogues.  

The creation of midrash, however, did not end with the rabbis of the fifth century. I want to share with you this evening two midrashes – the first, a classic midrash from the early rabbis, and second, a modern midrash by a contemporary Jewish writer.

First, the classic midrash: In the Book of Numbers, the princes of the tribes of Israel bring gifts to dedicate the Mishkan—the portable desert sanctuary.  The Torah tells us that the first prince to bring a gift is named Nachshon ben Aminadav of the tribe of Judah. Now, to be chosen to bring the very first gift to the dedication ceremony of the Mishkan is a great honor. What, the rabbi’s ask, might Nachshon have done to merit such distinction? Since the Torah does not tell us, the answer is given in the form of a midrash. According to the rabbis, when the Israelites were being pursued by the Egyptians, Nachshon ben Aminadav was the first person to jump into the sea, almost drowning before the sea miraculously parts to allow the people to cross on dry land. In reward for this display of faith, both Nachshon and the tribe of Judah are rewarded with a place of honor among Israel.

Now, the Torah tells us that Nachshon has a sister, named Elisheva. You have probably never heard of her, because she is only mentioned one time in the Torah. Earlier in the Book of Exodus, the Torah tells us “Aaron took to wife Elisheba, daughter of Amminadab and sister of Nahshon, and she bore him Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar.” That is the last we ever hear of her in the Torah. She is the wife of Aaron the High Priest, the sister in law of Moses, the mother of the Priests of the Tabernacle, the sister of the Prince of Judah.  She must have lived a pretty interesting life, being a part of such a distinguished family, but we know nothing more about her!  Are we not curious? The contemporary poet Danny Siegel was.  He creates a modern midrash about her that fills in some of the blanks of her life.  This evening, I want to share Danny Siegel’s midrash with you.

Danny Siegel says that Elisheva started out as Nachshon’s little sister.  She was a few years younger than he was, and so, like all big brothers, he watched out for her, got annoyed with her, played with her and laughed with her.  Elisheva and her brother Nachshon were very close.

The years went by and Nachshon and Elisheva grew up.  Elisheva had become a young woman, who was smart, and mature, and able to take care of herself!

Then came the day when the people of Israel stood in front of the Red Sea. The Egyptians were chasing after them, and the sea was in front of them, and they were trapped in between.  The midrash tells us that the people were divided as to what to do. Some simply prayed to G-d for help. Some wanted to surrender to the Egyptians and return to Egypt.  Some wanted to fight the Egyptians.  Moses didn’t know what to do, so he prayed to G-d for guidance.

Nachshon hesitated and looked at his sister. She knew exactly what he was thinking. “You can do it,” she said to him, and she squeezed his hand.  “You can lead us to freedom.” At that moment Nachshon jumped into the sea. He waded out further and further, until he was up to his neck.  Seeing the brave Nachshon about to drown, G-d said to Moses, “Stop praying to me and tell the people to go!  Raise up your hand toward the sea.” Moses did so, and the sea parted. Nachshon was saved. The Jewish people followed him to freedom. 

If it wasn’t for his sister Elisheva, Nachshon would not have had the confidence to follow through on his instincts to act. She knew that someone had to make the first move to freedom, and she knew that her brother was the one to do it. Who knows, were it not for Elisheva’s encouragement, perhaps we would still be slaves in Egypt!

This midrash got me to think about the people in my life who encouraged me, who showed confidence in me, who said the words, “You can do it” when I needed it.  If we are fortunate, we all have had people in our lives whose words gave us the push we needed to do what we did not think we could do. This evening, in honor of Elishava, let us bring to mind and give thanks to those people who told us “You could do it” at important junctures in our lives. Let’s share some of our stories with one another at the oneg – I myself would love to hear about people in your lives who said, like Elisheva, “You could!”

Shabbat Shalom

Inspired by a sermon by Rabbi Jack Reimer



Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Chicago Rabbinic Action Committee Mission -- 2014

Rome and Jerusalem


Last week I spoke about The Rabbinic Action Committee trip to Rome.  I showed slides of the Jewish Catacombs of Rome, the Fosse Ardeantine memorial, ancient Jewish manuscripts of the Vatican library, our visit to the Ostia-Antica synagogue – the oldest remains of a synagogue outside of the Land of Israel. I also showed some slides of Tempio Maggiore – Rome’s Great Synagogue – where we spoke with Rome’s Chief Rabbi, Ricardo de Segni.  As you remember from last Shabbat, we were also special guests of Pope Francis at his weekly audience at the Vatican. We also visited the Renzo Levi School, just across the street from the synagogue. This is a school of 1000 students for children from elementary through High School. Italian Jews enroll their children in this school because it provides a high quality of education, and provides a safe, Jewish environment in which to study. We visited two classrooms – the first a Hebrew language class, the second a class in Art Appreciation conducted in English. About 80% of the students studying there are on scholarships. Other highlights included our meeting with Zion Evrony, Israeli ambassador to the Vatican, our meeting with Naor Gilon, Israel’s ambassador to Italy, and our meeting with Cardinal Kurt Koch, who heads the Vatican’s Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews.

 We broached a sensitive subject in our meeting with the Cardinal. We asked him about the opening of the Vatican archives to scholars wanting to examine the wartime record of Pope Pius XII. You might remember that Pope Pius XII’s actions during the Holocaust have been a source of controversy. Consequently, the Vatican’s moves toward conferring  sainthood upon Pius XII has angered Jewish groups who claim that he did not do enough to intervene to save Jews during World War II.  Jewish groups also argue that the Vatican helped many former Nazis escape to South America after World War II, and they wonder about Pope Pius’ role in this. The only way to put to rest the serious questions about Pius’ behavior during the Shoah would be to open the archives to independent scholars. Cardinal Koch replied that he had no objection to opening the archives. In fact, some years ago the Vatican agreed to make the archives available to researchers. However, he said, the thousands upon thousands of documents that constitute the archives would need to be put in order so that they can be productively researched by scholars – and this has not yet happened! 

After four full days in Rome, we flew to Israel. Friday morning we met with Akiva Tor of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.  He summarized for us the issues and challenges that Israel faces with her neighbors – Iran, Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan and Turkey.  He also spoke of Pope Francis’ upcoming visit to Israel. Although it will last only 28 hours – Israeli leaders had hoped he would stay for three days – the Pope will visit Yad Vashem, The Western Wall and meet with Israeli political and religious leaders. Our speaker contrasted Pope Francis’ upcoming visit with Pope Paul VI’s visit to Israel in 1964. That visit lasted only 11 hours, and Pope Paul VI never once mentioned Israel by name. He went out of his way to avoid using the word “Jew”, avoided all sites of Jewish significance including Yad Vashem – Israel’s Holocaust memorial. He even took the occasion to praise Pope Pius XII and defend his silence during the Holocaust. Pope Paul VI dedicated his visit to “Christian Unity” rather than interfaith understanding. He refused to set foot in West Jerusalem – although he celebrated Mass in East Jerusalem, then under Jordanian rule.  Clearly the relationship between the Vatican and Israel has changed significantly for the better since that papal visit in 1964!

On a personal note, a major highlight was meeting our niece, Esty, in Jerusalem for Shabbat. Esty is my sister Audrey’s daughter. She graduated from Dartmouth last June and is in Israel on a Fellowship for a year. She works at the Israeli National Wildlife Animal Hospital, which is nestled right in the heart of the Tel Aviv Zoo!  She charmed us and my colleagues with her tales of her experiences as a veterinary assistant treating injured exotic wild animals that are brought in to the hospital --  like ibex’s, eagle owls, fruit bats, flamingos, jackals, hyenas, hoopoe birds, and Egyptian mongoose – mongeese? -- to name a few. She also has participated in editing and publishing scholarly articles on innovative forms of treatment for these animals that come out of the work at the hospital. Our 6th grade class and I were discussing the various categories of mitzvahs that one can perform, such as “Keeping Shabbat” and “Honoring your parents and teachers.” One category we discussed is called “Tzaar Ba-alei Chayim” – kindness to animals. I told them about Esty’s work at the animal hospital and next Tuesday I will show them slides of Esty with some of the animals that she treats.

On Shabbat afternoon Esty took me on a walk through the Arab quarter to a place called the Austrian Hospice. The roof of the Austrian Hospice afforded us a unique view of the Old City and the Dome of the Rock. Middy stayed back at the hotel taking her Shabbas snooze.

Sunday morning began with a study session with Professor Avigdor Shinan of the Hebrew University. We studied Rabbinic texts related to rabbinic attitudes toward Rome. Given that Rome burned down the Second Temple in 70 CE, plowed under the ruins of Jerusalem and built a Roman colony there in its stead called Aelia Capitolina, and destroyed the remainder of the country in the course of the Bar Kokhba revolt in 135 CE, you might guess that the attitude of the rabbis of the time was not all that positive toward Rome. Take this charming story, for example, related in the Talmud. “Rabbi Yehudah, Rabbi Yosi and Rabbi Shimon were sitting together. Rabbi Yehudah said, “How wonderful the Romans have been to us here in Israel! They’ve established marketplaces, they’ve constructed bridges, and they’ve built bath-houses.” Rabbi Yosi was quiet. Rabbi Shimon said, “Everything they have done here, they have done for their own benefit, not ours! They established marketplaces to sell their harlots, bath-houses to give themselves pleasure, and bridges to collect tolls from us.” Word of their conversation got back to the Roman authorities. The Roman authorities decreed – “Rabbi Judah – you who exalted Rome will yourself be exalted”, and they honored him. “Rabbi Yosi – you who were quiet are exiled. Rabbi Shimon – you who denigrated Rome will receive the death penalty.”

Later that Sunday morning we visited the Joint Distribution Committee’s building in Jerusalem to learn about a program that is helping to integrate Israel’s ultra-Orthodox men into the Israeli army and after the army, into the work force. The problem of ultra-Orthodox poverty and dependence is huge in Israel – the Yeshivah education that the men receive does not prepare them for the workforce, they have been exempt from military service, they have huge families, they study Torah all day and subsist on welfare. The program is called Shakhar Chadash – New Dawn.  We met with its director, Israel Hoffrichter. The program enlists Ultra-Orthodox volunteers into the Israel Defense Forces, and offers them training in the military that will lead to employment after their army service. The program also provides glatt kosher food, and time for one hour of Torah study a day. Starting with 30 men in 2007, the program has now grown to serve 3000 men.  The program aims allow Ultra-Orthodox men to serve in the army and at the same time maintain their traditional way of life. Part of that way of life, however, involves strict separation of men and women, as well as the maintaining of traditional gender roles. This elicited some discussion among our group after the meeting. Although the program is promoted as a way of making Israeli society more inclusive, does that inclusivity come at the expense of women?

There was much more, including our meeting with Dr. Khalil Shikaki, Director of the Palestinian Center for Policy and Survey Research, and Natan Sharansky, Chairman of the Jewish Agency, and Dr. Shlomo Avineri, Political Science Professor at Hebrew University and frequent contributor to the Israeli newspaper Ha-Aretz. Next week I will be away at our family retreat at Camp Shai in Wisconsin, but the following week I will continue with an account of our Mission to Rome and Jerusalem.

Shabbat Shalom


Wednesday, February 19, 2014

New Year's Day Message

Embracing our Differences

On January 1 I participated in a panel at Wentz Concert Hall for the ninth annual World Peace Day Interfaith Prayer Service.  The theme of the day was “Embracing Differences in Our Changing Communities”.  My first thought was, “Who better than a rabbi to speak about the consequences of failing to embrace differences in a community?”  The Jewish experience testifies to the suffering and injustice that occurs when a minority that is different is not only not embraced, but actively persecuted. This has been part of the Jewish narrative ever since Pharaoh decided, as we read in the Torah this week, that he would not tolerate a free Jewish presence in his land. One lesson the Exodus story teaches is that everyone in a society suffers when intolerance reigns. Is it any wonder that Jews have been at the forefront of movements to tolerate and embrace those who are seen as “different” in our country – whether they be racial minorities, the immigrant, women, gays, lesbians and transgendered people, the physically challenged, the politically outspoken?  This evening I want to share with you what I said on New Year’s Day at the World Peace Day Service:

Look around! We are of different skin colors, ethnicities, religions, cultures, and sexual orientations. We speak different languages, have different accents, and have different talents. We are of different ages, different genders and have different physical capacities.  Yet, at the same time, we are all remarkably alike.  In the words of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, “First and foremost we meet as human beings who have so much in common : a heart, a face, a voice, the presence of a soul, fears, hope, the ability to trust, a capacity for compassion and understanding, the kinship of being human.”[1]

 The Talmud says that G-d created human diversity on purpose, to proclaim the greatness of the Creator. “For,” say the sages, “If a man strikes many coins from one die, they all resemble one another – in fact, they are all exactly alike!  But though the King of Kings, the Holy Blessed One, created every single human being out of the die of the first one, not a single person is like his fellow.”  Thus, in the Jewish view, G-d created a world full of diversity in order to testify to the magnificence of G-d’s glory and power. 

Recent history shows the consequences of trying to undo and even to eradicate that divinely planned diversity. In the twentieth century, the government of the Soviet Union sought to erase all differences among peoples.  This rested on the ideology that all human beings are equal, and, in their view, equality meant that there are no differences. They understood that everyone should be” the same”. The Communist authorities of the last century held that, “Ethnicity, class, religion and national characteristics belong to an old and decaying world. The time for such distinctions had passed,” they proclaimed.  They saw human diversity as a hindrance to human progress. 

 Natan Sharansky, one of the moral giants of the 20th century, opposed this ideology with all of his heart, soul, and strength.  Sharansky lived in the Soviet Union and was arrested by Soviet authorities in 1977. He spent the next nine years in a Soviet Prison Camp in the Siberian gulag. His crime -- he wanted to affirm his Jewish identity by emigrating to Israel.  His arrest and imprisonment became a world- wide symbol for human rights in general and for the right of Soviet Jews in particular. He was the first political prisoner to be released by Mikhael Gorbachev due to intense pressure from President Reagan and the United States.  He wrote an account of his ordeal in an inspiring book entitled Fear No Evil. He writes of the corrosive effects on the individual by those who seek to erase all differences among human beings.

That Soviet government, he writes, wanted to create a new type of man – homo sovieticus. In a fanatical pursuit of this goal, it became illegal for Jews to gather for prayer, to teach their children about the Jewish religion, to have Jewish books, to learn the Hebrew language, and to follow the news about Israel.  If one was caught doing any of these things, one could be denied acceptance to a University, fired from a job, or thrown into prison.  The efforts to erase difference succeeded beyond imagination.  Sharansky writes that he grew up knowing that he was Jewish, but knowing nothing about Jewish history, language, culture or religion. “Like all Soviet Jews of my generation,” he writes, “I grew up rootless, unconnected, without identity.”

Sharansky found the courage to fight for human rights in the Soviet Union by embracing his particular Jewish identity.  Through affirming his right to be different, he found the strength to fight for his own personal liberation and the liberation of all citizens of the Soviet Union.  “Slashing off their roots did not create a new, strong, free man,” as Soviet ideology had believed it would, he writes.  “Instead, it trampled human dignity and turned the individual into a slave a chattel….. Only a person who is connected to his past, to his people, and to his roots can be free, and only a free person has the strength to act for the benefit of the rest of humanity.” Only when we support each other’s right to be who we truly are, are we truly free.

Each morning a Jew recites the following in his or her prayers “How varied and multifarious are your creatures, O Lord, you made each of them with wisdom, you have filled the world with your creation.”   May this New Year see a renewal of our efforts to create a community that respects and embraces our differences, that finds strength and creativity in our uniqueness, and that sees in our diversity a reflection of divine glory.  Amen.

 



[1] “No Religion is an Island” in Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity edited by Susannah Heschel 1997

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Parasha Va-era





A "Ribbiting" Debate

Just a few weeks ago,   the American Studies Association, an academic organization, voted overwhelmingly to sever ties with all Israeli academic institutions.  This is part of a larger boycott movement in the West that has been the source of great concern to Israel and its supporters.  In recent weeks a Dutch water company severed its ties to its Israeli counterpart. Canada's largest Protestant church decided to boycott three Israeli companies. The Romanian government refused to allow its citizens to come to Israel to work in construction.
The American Studies Association resolution calls for the organization to boycott "formal collaborations with Israeli academic institutions, or with scholars who are expressly serving as representatives or ambassadors of those institutions, or on behalf of the Israeli government, until Israel ceases to violate human rights and international law."
One has to wonder why the American Studies Association chooses to boycott Israeli academic institutions.  Israel is, after all, a democracy and as such the faculty members have complete academic freedom. Why not boycott China, for example, a country with a population of 1.3 billion people and a well established history of intolerance of dissent. The New York Times reported that in October of this year Peking University dismissed Professor Xia Yeliang for advocating freedom and democracy.  His troubles began when he signed a petition in 2008 urging more freedom and democracy in China. The originator of that petition, known as Charter 08, is serving an 11 year sentence for subversion.  According to the Times, the dismissal of Professor Xia is part of a larger crackdown on scholars, lawyers and writers who have been advocating for more freedom.  This has been part of a campaign of "ideological purification" to suppress dissent in China.  Yet when asked the sensible question about why Israel was singled out for boycott, Curtis Marez, an Associate Professor of ethnic studies at the University of California responded, "We've got to start somewhere."
To get some insight into these issues we can look at a curious debate recorded in the Talmud. This debate is related to our parasha for this week. In our parasha, Moses is calling forth the first plagues to be brought upon Egypt. Dam – blood; Tsefardeyah – Frogs. Only the word Tsefardeyah , frog, is in the singular, not the plural. "Frogs" would be "Tsefardim" in the Hebrew.  This led to a disagreement between Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Eliezer. Rabbi Akiva maintains that there was only one frog, like the Torah literally says, and that it came up on the land.  That frog gave birth to many frogs, which then swarmed over Egypt. Rabbi Eliezer maintains that there was only one frog, like the Torah literally says, that came up on the land. That frog then whistled to all the other frogs in the Nile, who joined it. They all then swarmed over Egypt. The Talmud records Rabbi Eliezer's disdain for Rabbi Akiva's interpretation.  "Akiva, go back to studying the minutia of the law, for which you are capable, and leave the creative interpretations of Torah to me!"
Why was Rabbi Eliezer so harshly dismissive of Rabbi Akiva's interpretation?  As it turns out their differences were more profound than it appears on the surface.  These men were living during the Hadrianic persecution of the second century. The Roman Emperor Hadrian had forbidden three critical practices for the Jewish people: the practice of circumcision, the teaching and study of Torah, and the observance of Shabbat. The Emperor  was in the process of building a Roman Temple on the Holy Mount in Jerusalem.  Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Akiva were actually debating the nature of this anti-Jewish animus.
Rabbi Akiva, who held forth that the one frog had given birth to all the other frogs that swarmed over Egypt, was not talking about frogs at all. He held the theory that one man, in this case the Emperor Hadrian, could be responsible for spawning hatred against the Jewish people. Eliminate this one man, thought Rabbi Akiva, and you eliminate the source of the hatred that is influencing everyone else.  A corollary of this theory is that if one eliminates the behavior that is causing the hatred, then the hatred will cease as well.  Rabbi Eliezer, on the other hand, holds a different theory. He believes that anti-Jewish feelings were spread throughout society.  All it took was one influential person to call it forth, and it sprung seemingly out of nowhere, like frogs coming out of the Nile.  In this case the one frog is not the cause of the antagonism; it is merely the precipitant of it , the catalyst that calls it forth. In this case it is not any particular behavior of the Jewish people that causes the hatred; rather, it is the inability of a society to tolerate a minority in their midst with distinctive beliefs and practices.
I have to admit I do not know whether Rabbi Akiva's understanding or Rabbi Eliezer's understanding better explains the American Studies Association decision to boycott Israel, and others like it.  Is it, as Rabbi Akiva would have it, simply that Israel's behavior in the occupied territories is responsible for the calls to action against her?  Or, is Rabbi Eliezer right – that anti-Jewish feeling is endemic in Western societies, and that it is the very existence of Israel, that brings forth antagonism against her?  This is not to say that there really is one correct answer to this vexing question – only that we ought to beware of simplistic solutions or answers to such a highly complex  issue. 
Shabbat Shalom



Sunday, December 15, 2013

Parasha Va-Yekhi

How To Hold A Grudge

This letter appeared in the Sunday NY Times advice column called "Social Q's" on July 5:

This letter would be comical if it were not so sad. The slight inflicted is minor, one could say, the reaction to it so furious. Yet the letter illustrates how feelings of revenge and the desire to retaliate may be elicited by insensitive comments or actions that others direct toward us. Some of these may seems petty, like the one described in the letter. Others are more serious, as in the story of Joseph that we have been reading in the Torah these past several weeks.  Nevertheless, whether in response to a minor incident or a major one, feelings are feelings, and the question for this evening is, how should we behave in response when we have been wronged?

Much can be learned from studying the example set by Joseph. In this week's parasha, Jacob dies in Egypt. The Torah tells us that Joseph's brothers are worried.  They are afraid that Joseph has held a grudge against them for selling him into slavery, and that with the death of their father he will now exact his vengeance for the evil that they did to him. They even tell Joseph that before he died, their father told them that he hoped that Joseph would find it in his heart to forgive them.

Most of us can understand how difficult it would be to forgive someone, let alone your brother, who is supposed to love you, for selling us into slavery.  Many brothers and sisters find it hard to forgive one another for far less. Undoubtedly some of us know people who cannot find it in their heart to forgive a family member, and therefore they do not talk to that person for years on end.  In response to his brother's plea to be forgiven, Joseph replies, "Fear not, am I in the place of G-d? Although you intended me harm, G-d intended it for the good… so fear not, I will sustain you and your young ones."

Do you hear words of forgiveness in Joseph's response?  I do not.   I hear from Joseph a promise not to retaliate against his brothers for the evil they have done toward him. If G-d wants to punish them for their evil, so be it.  Joseph, for his part, promises to fulfill his obligation to support his family in Egypt.  But not once in the entire saga does Joseph utter the words, "I forgive you."

Some understand Joseph's failure to forgive his brothers after all of these years as a surprising moral lapse in someone who has come to be known in our tradition as "Yosef HaTsadik" – "Joseph the Righteous".  After all, isn't Yom Kippur the day of the year when we are supposed to forgive those who have wronged us?  Doesn't Joseph have a religious obligation to forgive? Many Yom Kippurs have passed in the intervening years that lead to their father's death.  Could Joseph not have forgiven them by now?  Yet, others see Joseph's failure to forgive his brothers as further sign of his greatness!  They understand that Joseph is unable to forgive his brothers. Naturally, they say, Joseph cannot forgive his brothers for what they have done. After all, who could forgive such an un-brotherly act as selling a brother into slavery? Joseph's greatness, according to them, lies in the fact that even though he cannot forgive them, he still uses his power to protect them. Although he cannot honestly find it in his heart to forgive them, he will not act against them. If his brothers are to be punished at all, it will be at the hands of G-d.  Joseph will have nothing to do with that.

This is a lesson for all of us.  How ought we to react to a person who has wronged us in words or in action? It is certainly praiseworthy to be able to "forgive and forget", yet, as the story of Joseph illustrates, this is not always possible. Although we may not be able to forgive others for what they have done to us, we can restrain ourselves from getting back at them.  Joseph shows us that it is possible to maintain cordial relationships with others and to even be warm and generous to them, though we may harbor some lingering resentment toward them in our hearts.        

Shabbat Shalom
*This sermon was inspired by a teaching by Rav David Silverberg


Sunday, December 8, 2013

Parasha VaYigash

Reconciliation -- "Then" and "Now" 

Rabbi Joseph Telushkin relates the following story. It illustrates the rancor that is legend in synagogue life:

Two members of a congregation have been feuding for years. On Yom Kippur eve, just before the Kol Nidre service, the rabbi brings the two men together in his office. "You must make peace," he implores. "What is the point of going into the synagogue and asking G-d to forgive you when you cannot even forgive your fellow man?"  The men are both moved. They hug and promise that they will not fight anymore. When services end, one of the men greets the other. "I prayed for you everything that you prayed for me," the first man said.  "Starting up already?" the second man answered.

Reconciliation and forgiveness can be very difficult. Yet one of the most important callings of our tradition is to bring peace between people.  In this week's parasha, we read about the forgiveness and reconciliation the Joseph brought about with his brothers. In thinking about this parasha, I was struck by the parallels between Joseph and another great peacemaker in our own time, Nelson Mandela, who died yesterday at the age of 95. To those who think that the stories of the Bible are fairy tales -- fictions that could not have happened -- all we need to do is to look at the similarities between Joseph's life and Nelson Mandela's to convince us of the basic truth of the biblical account of Joseph. Both men were born to rule, but ended up ruling in ways they could not have imagined. Both men were born to privilege. Joseph was the son of the wealthy patriarch, the prophet Jacob.  Mandela was raised in the home of his tribal chief, to whom he was the heir apparent.  Both men were dreamers at a young age, and both had a rebellious streak. Mandela rebelled against the paramount chief who was planning his marriage and future chieftainship.  He ran away to Johannesburg, where he was suspended from college for his political activity against apartheid. He dreamed of a South Africa where white and black could live together in freedom and equality. Joseph was given a coat of many colors by his father, a symbol of leadership in the family. He too refused to follow the rules of tribal life and had dreams of leadership that went against long established tribal custom. Both Nelson Mandela and Joseph were incarcerated unjustly, and spent long years in the darkness of prison. Yet both were able to maintain hopefulness in the face of what would drive others to despair. For Mandela, this was achieved through his ideals and his conviction that in the end the cause of justice and equality would eventually win. For Joseph, hope was maintained by his certainty that G-d would not abandon him in his darkest days. "Tell your dreams to me," says Joseph to the cupbearer and the baker with whom he was imprisoned. "Perhaps G-d will give me the wisdom to interpret them".

Both Joseph and Nelson Mandela came from their prison cells to rise to lead their respective nations with skill and wisdom, with dignity and forbearance.  However, their greatest achievements were not in the areas of administrative skills, but in moral force.  Nelson Mandela received world wide acclaim as a peacemaker, as a person who chose forgiveness over vengeance. "His commitment to ……. reconcile with those who jailed him set an example that all humanity should aspire to," said President Obama upon hearing of the death of Mandela. "He was influential, courageous and profoundly good."  Those words could very well have been spoken about Joseph. In this week's parasha we learn that Joseph's brothers are terrified that he is going to pay them back for having sold him into slavery. They are horrified at the thought that he will exact vengeance for all the years of suffering. It is Joseph's belief in G-d's power in his life that keeps him from doing just that.  He allays the fears of his brothers with the words, "G-d sent me ahead of you to assure your survival in the land and to sustain you….it was not you who sent me here -- it was G-d." In saying these words, Joseph shows his profound humility. "It is not all about me," he is saying to his brothers in another way. "My suffering is part of a greater plan that only now becomes apparent."

As I was writing these thoughts, my attention was brought to new musical opened on Broadway this summer called "Soul Doctor". It is about the life of Rabbi Shlomo Carlbach, may his memory be for a blessing. There is a scene in the play where Reb Shlomo is giving a concert in Vienna. His mentor, Reb Pinchas, with whom Reb Shlomo has fallen out, confronts him. "A Jew must never forgive the crimes of these 'cultured citizens of Vienna'" says Reb Pinchas. "My dear Reb Pinchas," replies Reb Shlomo, "If I had two hearts, I could use one to love and one to hate. But I only have one heart ... so I use it to love!" 

This is the greatness of both Joseph and Nelson Mandela, and it could be our greatness as well. We only have one heart – use it to love.  The lives of Joseph and Mandela show us a different way – the possibilities of escaping our need to settle scores from the past and moving forward in our lives to a brighter, more glorious future.  May they inspire us to overcome hatred, enmity, bigotry and intolerance. May they serve as models of how we can free ourselves from the desire for retaliation in our personal lives, in our work lives or in our communal and political lives. Let not our dreams be imprisoned by bitterness.  To paraphrase Nelson Mandela : "If there are dreams about a beautiful life, there are also roads that lead to that goal. Two of these roads could be named Goodness and Forgiveness."

Shabbat Shalom