Rabbi Philip Weintraub
Congregation Agudas Israel
September 15, 2015
Rosh Hashanah Day 2
A few weeks ago Rebecca and I celebrated our anniversary at Madison Square Garden with Billy Joel. Ok, so it wasn’t just us, way up in the nosebleeds, but tens of thousands of his screaming fans attending this concert. He played the crowd well, brought in Yitzhak Pearlman to play for a couple of songs, to standing ovations and raucous cheers. Yet what brought the room to the loudest applause, what brought most people to their feet was
Some folks like to get away
Take a holiday from the neighborhood
Hop a flight to Miami Beach
Or to Hollywood
But I'm talking a Greyhound
On the Hudson River Line
I'm in a New York state of mind
Wherever they came from, wherever they were going home that night, standing with Billy Joel, they were New Yorkers. Many of you know my story, that I was born in New York, yet grew up outside Atlanta, went to Brandeis, JTS in NYC and now my home is with you all. If I did my math correctly, this year officially pushes me over the top, I have now lived in New York more than any other state. Yet, even as I look out over the Hudson River, there are other songs in my heart and they aren’t The Devil Went Down to Georgia or Midnight Train to Georgia. I’m not even talking about “leaving my home in Georgia heading for the Hudson Bay”. No, the songs in my heart are Yerushalayim Shel Zahav, Al Kol Eileh, Bashanah Haba’ah, songs in the back of the USY bentcher, B’kol Echad; they are songs of Israel. They are songs longing for peace, yet unafraid to demand Jewish sovereignty, filled with biblical allusions and verses. For most Jews, their first steps in Israel are strangely familiar. For many, there is an immediate connection to the land, to the people, to the very soil itself. Something in the air is just different in Israel, a little bit holier.
There is an old joke:
The Chief Rabbi of Israel and the Pope are in a meeting in Rome. The Rabbi notices an unusually fancy phone on a side table in the Pope's private chambers.
"What is that phone for?" he asks the pontiff.
"It's my direct line to the Lord!"
The Rabbi is skeptical, and the Pope notices. The Holy Father insists that the Rabbi try it out, and, indeed, he is connected to the Lord. The Rabbi holds a lengthy discussion with him.
After hanging up the Rabbi says. "Thank you very much. This is great! But listen, I want to pay for my phone charges."
The Pope, of course refuses, but the Rabbi is steadfast and finally, the pontiff gives in. He checks the counter on the phone and says:
"All right! The charges were 100,000 Lira." ($50)
The Chief Rabbi gladly hands over a packet of bills. A few months later, the Pope is in Jerusalem on an official visit. In the Chief Rabbi's chambers he sees a phone identical to his and learns it also is a direct line to the Lord. The Pope remembers he has an urgent matter that requires divine consultation and asks if he can use the Rabbi's phone.
The Rabbi gladly agrees, hands him the phone, and the Pope chats away. After hanging up, the Pope offers to pay for the phone charges.
The Rabbi looks on the phone counter and says: "1 Shekel 50" ($.25)
The Pope looks surprised: "Why so cheap!?!"
The Rabbi smiles: "Local call."
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Wandering in the streets of Jerusalem, it really feels like God is a little bit closer, which could explain why everyone seems a little bit crazier, and that is not even speaking of Jerusalem syndrome, when people imagine themselves to be prophets! In my time in Jerusalem, I discovered that whenever I was stressed I would start walking and end up at the Kotel, the Western Wall. Every time I am in Israel it is harder to return, yet I know that I belong here, with my family, in America. I am just lucky to have more than one home AND YOU DO, TOO.
Israel.
Israel is the crossroads of the world, the heart of it according to our tradition and medieval mapmakers. It has never been an easy place to live. Conquered and reconquered, it has always been a home to Jews, although not always comfortably (Depending on who was in charge). Israel is a country with multiple microclimates, from skiing on Mt. Hermon to the deserts in the south. It has taken enormous ingenuity to produce everything from Jaffa oranges to pharmaceuticals to the essential silicon chips in virtually every cell phones. To truly boycott Israel, one would have to do without numerous medicines, and virtually all modern technology!
I stand before you on this second day of Rosh Hashanah, not to invite you to come to Israel with me in May, not to regale you with the beauty of the country, not to remind you of the miracle of its rebirth, or its antiquity, or its imperfect balance of secularism and religion (or its successes and failures in peace and war with its neighbors and citizens). I am not standing here merely to inspire you to join me in May, to see her citizens, her miracles, or even to celebrate Rosh Chodesh, the new month with Women of the Wall, or Israeli Memorial Day and Independence Days, which are an experience like no other. (Ok, I do tell you those things because I would LOVE to have you join me in Israel.)
The real reason that, I stand here today to share with you my thoughts about the very fabric of the universe and our place in it. Over the next ten days and beyond, we will spend a significant amount of time together. Yesterday, Shabbat, Yom Kippur, Sukkot and Simchat Torah are all sacred times. We come together with deep intentions. We choose our clothing, our hair, our kippah, our tallit, maybe even wear a white kittel to announce to ourselves and those around us that this is a time for prayer and reflection. On these days we can sustain our attention, connect to the prayers (or the wonderful readings in the margins of our prayerbook), but what about all of the other days?
How do we sustain the prayerfulness of these days? How do we hang onto the holiness of these days? How do we bring the sanctity, the love, the joy, the hope, the freedom and even the awe to every other day of the year? In our own lives, I believe that every single moment is an opportunity for us. Every single moment. Not just when we stand here together, but also when our toddler is having a temper tantrum, when we are talking to our loved ones, when we argue with customer disservice, or when we see the sun set over our beautiful Hudson River. Love of Israel, of our Jewish homeland, whether yearning to return or yearning to go for the first time, is one way to connect to our heritage, to God and to one another, not just today, but every day.
One Yom Kippur, I spoke of the attempts of Temple Emmanuel in Newton to connect its community to all aspects of Jewish life. Using the metaphor of gates, they offered an access point to our holy traditions. Throughout the building, on the website, on every page of their literature was a reference to the “Seven Gates:” “Torah, Prayer, Israel, Shabbat, Redeeming the World, Building Community, and Teaching Jewish Values.” Recognizing that we are all individuals, that we all connected to God, Torah and Israel differently, they have codified and sanctified their values for all to see.
In our own community, these same values shape all that we do. I won’t repeat that sermon, but I do want to return our thoughts to Israel. Israel is many things to our people. It is the land promised to Abraham. It is the place where our ancestors walked, the homeland for thousands of years. Yet for generations of Jews, it was inaccessible. It was the memory of the destruction of the Temple, forced exile, oppression, the loss of sovereignty. In 1867, Mark Twain wrote of Israel:
“….. A desolate country whose soil is rich enough, but is given over wholly to weeds… a silent mournful expanse…. a desolation…. we never saw a human being on the whole route…. hardly a tree or shrub anywhere. Even the olive tree and the cactus, those fast friends of a worthless soil, had almost deserted the country.”
Yet even if it was mostly desolate, for generation upon generation, we yearned to return, to escape the galut, the exile and come home. We wanted to wander no more, to feel the rootedness the rest of the world had but we did not. In the Middle Ages, outside of Pilgrimages or traders (like many Jews), most people lived and worked in the places of their birth. Looking at Jewish history of the time, we were welcomed and then expelled from virtually every country in existence!
Our daily liturgy is filled with its fervent prayer for the restoration of Israel and Jerusalem, modernity brought Zionism, which offered a modern hope for a renewed State of Israel, HATIKVAH, our hope. With diplomacy, White Papers, and facts on the ground, waves of Aliyah, brought more and more Jews back to the land (and away from European and Russian Pogroms (and eventually the Shoah)). Establishing farms, kibbutzim, factories and other endeavors, with some spectacular failures, our brothers and sisters managed to do the impossible,to reestablish a long dormant state. To truly make it happen they needed the UN and a military.
For decades, Israel’s creation has been a miracle and uniter of (most of) the Jewish people. Across denominational (and political) lines (eventually), it reminded us of our own possibilities. If Israel could be reestablished after almost two thousand years, what else could be we accomplish? With American progress seemingly unstoppable the fifties, sixties and seventies, were times of optimism for American Jewry and Israel. Shuls were built in every new suburb and Conservative Judaism seemed prepared to triumph over all competitors.
Yet times have changed. For many of our brethren, Israel remains an inspiration. While still a tiny minority in the region, a matchbox on the football field of Middle Eastern land, its military no longer seems like a David to the Arabs’ Goliath. In today’s world, Israel is not always a unifying beacon of hope for the Jewish people. The generation in school today has no memory of the founding of the state of Israel, of Sinai campaigns or the Six Day War. Maybe they remember the challenges of Lebanon, the Oslo accords, or the intifadas. Some see oppression and occupation, rather than the only democracy in the Middle East. Our brothers and sisters might want to look to Israel’s neighbors. Syria, Iraq, Lebanon barely exist independently. Iran’s nuclear designs paralyzed its economy for years, but it still managed to finance terror through Hezbollah and Hamas. Jordan, Egypt, the Gulf States, Saudi Arabia are all currently semi-stable, but no one can predict if that will last. Israel may not be perfect, but thinking about Noah who was a tzadik bdorotav, righteous in his generation, we might say Israel is tzadikah b’makomah, righteous for its place.
As Conservative Jews, we are angered that women still cannot pray freely at the Kotel, that it is possibly illegal for me to officiate at a wedding in Israel. Marriage, divorce and even funerals are legally under the exclusive control of the rabbanut, the official Orthodox rabbis of the state. Israel is NOT perfect. We have to fight to get things done, but the same is true here at home. Just like our own country, it could treat those who are not citizens (and even those who are) with more respect and love. Prime Minister Netanyahu could use a reminder of one of our central verses of Torah, (Deut 10:19)
יט וַאֲהַבְתֶּם, אֶת-הַגֵּר: כִּי-גֵרִים הֱיִיתֶם, בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם.
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19 Love ye therefore the stranger; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.
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And yet, he must preside over a pretty chaotic security situation!
I love America. It is my home. It is a beautiful country that has more diversity of people and ideas than almost anywhere in the world. Our wonderful, progressive nation is also plagued by gun violence, racism, classism, inequality, apathy and few who desire to thoughtfully discuss these issues. We would rather speak AT one another than WITH one another. Do we throw up our hands and say, America is evil or wrong or terrible because it is not perfect? No, we demand better of our elected officials. Eventually, we throw the “bums” out and elect people who share our values. The same must be true for Israel. We must work for positive change, while recognizing the security, religious and political concerns of the region.
Amidst all of this tsuris we forget two vital facts
- Israel will always be our home.
- Israel is not just another country.
At the end of the day, we need Israel. If our history has taught us anything, it is that we need a place that will welcome us if the world changes again. The fact of Israel’s existence protects us in the world. Israel sees itself as the protector of the Jewish community throughout the world. Israel also needs us. It needs us to protest when our rabbis are mistreated, our women are mistreated, and our friends and neighbors are mistreated. It requires from us a strong voice pushing for Israel to be at its best--while being aware that our words matter.
Israel is not just another country. As the self-declared representative of the Jewish people, which we don’t always accept, it is held to standards no other nation could meet. Its conduct in peace and in war are scrutinized like no other. Ancient hatreds find themselves exposed in the fight against Israel. The UN which helped found it has written scores more resolutions for supposed violations of human rights than it has against Syria, Libya, China, North Korea, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan. American and British generals have noted that Israel does more to prevent civilian casualties than any other nation, yet is publicly reviled for its military conduct. Let me be clear, Israel could do much more to be a good steward for all its citizens, Jewish, Muslim, Christian, Druze. Racism and religious extremism must be fought within all its populations and policies and procedures should not be biased, yet it is the only country in the region that all can live and worship basically freely. When the issue of Palestinian refugees is raised, we cannot forget the 800,000 Jews who were kicked out of their former homes in Iraq, Afghanistan, Egypt, Jordan, Iran, and beyond after the establishment of the state of Israel.
I share all this with you this morning, because I want you to take more ownership of Israel. That means understanding your history. Take a class with me, read your Bible, keep up with current events. It means standing up and demanding action from Israel and from America. Protect Israel out of love. Visit Israel with me or on your own. Volunteer or donate with the Masorti movement, with Mercaz Olami to help push Israel to be a more democratic and egalitarian place, a real home for all Jews. Criticize it to make it better--but know your audience. Don’t give fodder to the anti-Semites.
Psalm 137 1-6
א עַל נַהֲרוֹת, בָּבֶל--שָׁם יָשַׁבְנוּ, גַּם-בָּכִינוּ: בְּזָכְרֵנוּ, אֶת-צִיּוֹן.
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1 By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
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ב עַל-עֲרָבִים בְּתוֹכָהּ-- תָּלִינוּ, כִּנֹּרוֹתֵינוּ.
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2 Upon the willows in the midst thereof we hanged up our harps.
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ג כִּי שָׁם שְׁאֵלוּנוּ שׁוֹבֵינוּ, דִּבְרֵי-שִׁיר-- וְתוֹלָלֵינוּ שִׂמְחָה:
שִׁירוּ לָנוּ, מִשִּׁיר צִיּוֹן.
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3 For there they that led us captive asked of us words of song, and our tormentors asked of us mirth:{N}
'Sing us one of the songs of Zion.'
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ד אֵיךְ--נָשִׁיר אֶת-שִׁיר-ה": עַל, אַדְמַת נֵכָר.
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4 How shall we sing the LORD'S song in a foreign land?
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ה אִם-אֶשְׁכָּחֵךְ יְרוּשָׁלִָם-- תִּשְׁכַּח יְמִינִי.
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5 If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.
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ו תִּדְבַּק-לְשׁוֹנִי, לְחִכִּי-- אִם-לֹא אֶזְכְּרֵכִי:
אִם-לֹא אַעֲלֶה, אֶת-יְרוּשָׁלִַם-- עַל, רֹאשׁ שִׂמְחָתִי.
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6 Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I remember thee not; {N}
if I set not Jerusalem above my chiefest joy.
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In our days together, may we continue to discover ways of connecting to God, to Torah, to Israel and to our entire Jewish community. May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our heart help us to discover the strivings, the yearning within us all. May we turn those yearnings into action. אִם-אֶשְׁכָּחֵךְ יְרוּשָׁלִָם-- תִּשְׁכַּח יְמִינִי If we do not remember Jerusalem, we are incomplete. Unlike the psalmist, we CAN sing praises of Israel outside the land. We can work to make the country better. We can use our yearning to re-establish the homeland we all deserve. We can visit and advocate. In doing so, we will bring holiness into our lives every day of the year.
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