Kol Nidre Sermon 5774

Charles Ramsey and making the world better.

Kol Nidre 5774

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

Rabbi Larry Freedman

May 7 2013

CLEVELAND – Cleveland police said missing teens Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus and a third woman were found in a west side house on Monday. Hundreds of people gathered in the streets near 2207 Seymour Avenue in Cleveland, where the women were discovered. Cleveland police said Berry, DeJesus and Michelle Knight are alive, talking and appear to be OK. “I heard screaming… And I see this girl going nuts trying to get outside,” said Charles Ramsey, a neighbor who found the women. “I go on the porch and she said ‘Help me get out. I’ve been here a long time.’ I figure it was domestic violence dispute.” “She comes out with a little girl and says ‘Call 911, my name is Amanda Berry’… 

Being a decent person is not easy.  Being a decent person is really, really hard.  Sometimes, you have to realize that good people can be bad and you have to do something about that.  And sometimes you have to realize that bad people can be good and you have to do something about that.  Being a decent person means always trying to do the right thing and that can be very difficult but it has to be done.

The news story of the year, for my money, is the story of Charles Ramsey.  You may remember this news story out of Cleveland as the story of Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus and Michelle Knight and a child.  These were the women who were held in captivity for up to a decade in a dungeon like basement.

They were rescued when Amanda Berry was able to break out, went running down the street and right into Charles Ramsey.

Charles Ramsey is a working class black man who told his tale with colorful details, inflection and rhythm in his own authentic, unvarnished way.  It was refreshing to hear someone speak on camera without worry.  If you haven’t heard his initial interview, done live, with a local TV reporter, you really should.  It’s brilliant.[1]  The best part of the interview for me was at the very end.  Here’s the set up.  Ramsey talks about how he was minding his own business eating McDonalds.  He talks about how he heard a scream and went to investigate.  He thought it might be a domestic disturbance that many, many people would just refuse to get involved with.

Now right there we have enough for a sermon.  Lots of us mind our own business and then, when hearing something, we ignore it.  Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are all about trying to dig deep to make ourselves better people.  Most of the time making ourselves better people involves stopping something.  Stop being rude.  Stop being impatient.  Stop being, in a word, mean.

And that’s fine.  That’s good.  But Charles Ramsey is a High Holiday hero because he didn’t just stop being bad.  He actively worked to be good.  He could have gone inside.  He could have just called 911 and left it at that.  But he didn’t.  On a day like any other day, he knew something wasn’t quite right and he investigated, helped get the door open and rescued from a violent hell, three women and a child. 

There are times when we really aren’t sure what to do.  There are times when decisions have to be made in a heartbeat based on impressions, feelings, a notion that something isn’t right.  Are you ready to do that?  Do you think you’re the kind of person who will stand up, stick out, speak out?  Charles Ramsey happens to live next to a national story of monstrous proportions.  Most of us never will.  But all of us have moments that call for action and bravery.  There are times we could stand up to bullies, speak out for social justice, call out the person who makes insensitive jokes.  Being a better person is not only about changing our bad behavior.  Sometimes it requires us to condemn and reject publicly the bad behavior of others.  And we don’t have to be Charles Ramsey to do that.  You all could think of a moment in the past 12 months where you could have said something but you didn’t.  Next time, do it.  From this Yom Kippur to the next, insist on good behavior from yourself and others.

But it gets better.  The best part of Charles Ramsey’s interview, live on the air, came at the very end.  Now, you have to understand that Ramsey knew the perpetrator.  They had ribs together, he told people. They weren’t best friends but he knew the guy to be nice enough, quiet and all that.  He had no reason to think badly of the guy.  That’s the context.  The white reporter kept his microphone in front of Ramsey scooping up all the quotes, all the little nuggets.  And then, Ramsey says this, “I knew something was wrong when a little pretty white girl ran into a black man’s arms. Somethin’ is wrong here. Dead giveaway. DEAD GIVEAWAY. She’s either homeless or got problems. That’s the only reason why she run to a black man.”  And at this point the white reporter backed away and quickly did his usual, “And that’s the scene here…” closing.  Once Charles Ramsey acknowledged his reality, of the usual way it goes when he talks about black men and white women, once he mentioned how the behavior of a white girl convinced him he really had to help, well, that was just too much for the reporter.  He didn’t want to get into that issue.  But there it was for one shining moment, an honest, even nonjudgmental, acknowledgement of race in America.  For one brief moment before the reporter could sanitize anything, we had an unvarnished look at the way it is, at least in Ramsey’s neighborhood.  And that also makes him a High Holiday hero because he called it like he saw it.  No fault.  He wasn’t cursing America.  He was just calling it as he saw it and that’s the way he sees it every day.  And that reality, the reality of an undercurrent of racism that is pernicious and so difficult to get rid of is a moment of honesty.  We can’t step up and fight injustice if we won’t see it.  We can’t stand against prejudice if we ignore it.  There are a lot of people who want to say that racism and prejudice is fading away:  it’s 2013 and we have a black President and all that.  But there are problems in this country that will never go away if we won’t be honest and discuss not only the problem but the underlying issues.  We can’t solve our issues if we won’t discuss racism or sexism or prejudice.

Charles Ramsey could have backed off.  He could have said, “given the realities of racism in this country and the historical frustrations black men experience when interacting with white women, I will decline to get involved.”  He could have said that.  He could have thought that.  But he didn’t.  He acknowledged racist attitudes as reality, not as a barrier to doing the right thing.  He did the right thing.  We should all be so lucky when we find ourselves this coming year in a difficult situation to be like Charles Ramsey.  Acknowledge reality and make the world a better place anyway.

Becoming a decent person is not about the grand gesture.  It’s not about a massive step.  It’s just doing what is right.  No doubt Charles Ramsey has opinions about being a black man in America.  He just didn’t let those opinions interfere with his humanity at that moment.  Charles Ramsey sized up an unfolding situation on the fly and did what needed to be done.  He was going to be a decent person.

Our challenge is to break free of what we assume is right.  Break free of preconceived notions, break free of the way we insist the world is so that we can be open to seeing how it might be.  We will never be able to have teshuva, an honest, intense turning away from bad behavior if we justify our actions so strongly that we won’t be able to see our own error.  And we will never make the world a better place until we imagine it can be so.

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[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcLSI3oyqhs

Rosh Hashana 5774 Sacrifice: Caring for your goat

Sacrifice: Caring for your goat

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

Rosh Hashana

Rabbi Larry Freedman

If you’ve never listened to This American Life, I recommend it.  It’s a National Public Radio program that tells beautifully written stories around a central theme about, as the title says, this American life.  One time the theme was about animals and the sacrifices they make and the first person to speak was Prof. Jonathan Klawans about animal sacrifice.

That piqued my curiosity of course.  The concept of animal sacrifice has always fascinated me because as a modern person, it’s hard to imagine how such a thing could hold such power over ancient people.  They had to really believe that their animal or grain would be dedicated to God in such a way that God would look down favorably upon them.  We can say that the people weren’t as educated.  We can say that modest, peasant farmers could be swept up in the pageantry and glory that was Jerusalem and the Holy Temple.  But we could also say that after a couple of years, a couple generations, they must have realized that the rains come when they come and the heat comes when it comes and illness comes when it comes and unless there was either actual Divine intervention or spectacular coincidence, sacrificial offerings might not have been responsible.

On the other hand, many of the sacrifices weren’t about simple cause and effect.  Many of them were offered after doing something wrong or out of thanks and some simply marked a holiday.  You weren’t asking for something so much as atoning or showing gratitude.

I know that the rules for an animal sacrifice insist that the animal have no blemish.  Not a nick, not a cut, not a bruise.  With this in mind, Prof. Klawan’s suggested something that I never thought of: imagine how hard it must have been to have a blemish free animal.  Just try to pick out an animal from your herd that hasn’t gotten a few thorn scratches.  How about an animal that never tripped or never was on the losing end of a head butt from another animal.  Find me an animal without a little blemish from sleeping on rocks. 

Professor Klawans suggests that the animals destined for offerings must have been carefully selected and tended to with an overly watchful eye.  They must have been segregated from the herd, offered extra soft bedding, guided gently away from thorns or hard rocks.  These animals must have been fretted over.  To bring that animal to Jerusalem for an offering must have been a very powerful gesture.  This wasn’t just some animal.  This was personal.  This animal represented years of preparation.  When you offered this animal up to God, you were offering a piece of yourself, your sweat and tears.

Judaism for many of us has long lost that level of effort.  For many today, we want Judaism to be a salve, a poultice that soothes our needs.  And it can be that.  It is that.  But it can be more.  If we bring ourselves, give of ourselves, put a little more effort, we get back even greater rewards.  But that is not the fashion these days.  Judaism is not a lifestyle, it is not an investment.  It is a thing to partake in when needed, as a consumer.

This brings us to a problem.  Our society is consumer oriented, fee for service. Reform synagogues, echo society.  Our synagogue structure is based on a membership model where we assume you’ll join, assume you’ll pay and assume you’ll be happy.  And if you’re not happy, you should show up more and you’ll be happy.

Now, I happen to believe that.  We have things here that will inspire the mind and lift the soul.  Unfortunately for me, that approach is not the way the world is anymore.

It is our job, the synagogue’s job, my job, to change and adapt and come up with a new model that doesn’t assume anything but positions itself as a place of value, that Temple Beth Jacob gives you something that enriches your life because in a consumer society, if it doesn’t bring benefit, if it doesn’t add value, why would you spend money on it?

I’m not saying that’s a great attitude but it is where we are at.  Synagogues are slow to adapt to this new reality and I’m behind the curve on this as much as anyone but adapt we must.  Adapt, I must.

So let me introduce a couple things to try and start turning things around.  First off, Kol Yisrael is going to be a value added experience.  We know that coming together has value.  For anyone who has joined any of our Kol Yisrael joint programs, you know the uplift in having the whole community together.  This will even be better once we get our building underway.  Plans are moving ahead though slower than we all wish but they are moving ahead. 

For us at Temple Beth Jacob, one of the best ways to build value in synagogue life is to improve the life of the synagogue.  Specifically, the social life.  We can’t assume people will show up.  We haven’t been able to assume that for 30 years but better late than never to recognize it.  We need to create reasons to gather on an ongoing basis.  Building relationships, making this place a place where you see your friends, where you can make new friends, that is the next wave of synagogue engagement.   It’s going to be about people to people engagement.  It used to be people to institution.  Now it’s people to people.

I have a program called Chai Mitzvah.  It will meet monthly and it involves three things:  communal study, a commitment to social action and investigation of ritual that will be personally meaningful.  I’m organizing a group of this year’s B’nai Mitzvah parents to be one gathering.  We’ll meet at people’s homes, have a little wine and cheese and engage the program.  I would also like to create a cohort of empty-nesters.  I would like to gather a group whose kids are off to college or beyond to do the same program.  The goal is social, personal, uplifting, spiritual. 

I’m ready to start.  I am asking you to bring your own well cared for goat and by goat I mean sacrifice.  I’m asking you to give up just a little of what is precious to you and these days what is most precious is time.  That’s my request.  You give the time, you get the value.

Through the JCC, we began monthly lunch-and-learn’s at a restaurant which started with three and blossomed to 11 people before summer arrived.  It’s lunch, it’s social, it’s personal, it’s interesting, it’s Jewish, it’s value added to your life.  We’ll keep that going all next year.  All you need to do is bring the sacrifice, your well cared for, carefully nurtured time.

Rabbi Weintraub and I are leading Tot Shabbat organized by Debbie Silverstein.  Open to all.  It’s 60 minutes.  Half is stories, songs and prayers.  The other half is snack and art project.  It’s spiritual, it’s educational, it’s social.  It’s great but you have to join us.  The sacrifice here is to get out of the house with a child from newborn to age 6 one Shabbat morning a month.  Getting out with a small child may be only slightly more difficult than caring for a small goat but the struggle is worth it.

I received a new book coming out by the people at Reboot.  This is a retelling of each weekly Torah parasha as imagined by artists.  It’s a fascinating take.  For this, I’m thinking five times a year, once for each book of the Torah when we can reflect on the artistic approach to understanding our sacred literature.  For this I need people who are interested in the arts, willing to engage the written word or the deeper meaning of visual representation.  I need an artistic or artistically open minded cohort for this.  It will be intellectual, eye opening, thought provoking and personal.

Personal is where it’s at.  Are you catching that?  On a Facebook conversation about this new approach, a number of rabbis explained the difference between a consumer and relationship model.  One said,[1] “in a consumer culture we are defined by what we have, but in a relationship culture what we have is defined by the moments we've shared with others, who we know and how we are known.”  It’s not about things.  It’s about connecting with others.

Another rabbi wrote this:  “Consumer culture: we use things up and throw things out.  Relationship culture: we fill one another up and build lasting memories.”[2]  And another take:  “In a consumer culture, we consider what products we offer that will bring people to us. In a relationship culture, we focus on building relationships with individuals, and then base our offerings on what comes out of those relationships.”[3]  And one more:  “In a consumer culture we focus on what we can get. In a relationship culture we focus on what we can give.”[4]

I have to take a moment and apologize.  I’m so sorry if I have failed you on that count.  I was trained to be a rabbi for a different era.  I wasn’t trained for this new personal, relationship approach.  It’s not my nature.  I’m a pleasant sort but I do not have the gift of gab that a relationship centered rabbi might need.  But what I’ve learned is very exciting.  What I’m seeing is very engaging.  I am willing to go a new direction.  It’s outside my comfort zone, for sure.  After organizing in one way for 20 years it will be a challenge to reorganize how I operate but I like the concept.  I can see how it will work and I know the old way is fading fast. 

So let’s try.  We all know that after Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, the vast majority of you just don’t want to come back for more prayers during Sukkot and then Simchat Torah.  At the same time, one of the constant comments I receive from many of you after Rosh Hashana or Yom Kippur is this:  that was really lovely.  I’m always glad that I come to synagogue.  I wish I did it more.  So you like it when you are here but you don’t come back just five days later for Sukkot. 

Well, that leaves me with two choices.  I can either point my finger at you, comfortable role for rabbis.  Or, I can look at myself, an uncomfortable role for rabbis.  Maybe, just maybe, and I’m just spit-ballin’ here , you are not interested in more sit-down prayers in less than a week after Yom Kippur.  Well then, let’s try something new.  Five days after Yom Kippur, erev Sukkot will be a pot luck dinner.  We’ll provide soft drinks, you bring a dish.  And a bottle of wine or beer if you wish.  We’ll have dinner together in the Sukkah.  No liturgy in the sanctuary.  Maybe we’ll look at the prayers specific to Sukkot and we’ll shake the lulav, of course, but less formal, more social.  Let’s break the mold.  You know you like seeing each other.  Come have dinner with each other.

And a week after that, let’s shake up Simchat Torah.  Let’s skip the liturgy for a change.  We’ll let our youngest students start us off with their Consecration, we’ll go straight to dancing with the Torah.  We’ll read the end of Deuteronomy, restart Genesis and dance a bit more.  Very lively, very fun, very social.  Then, we’ll send the kids home and the rest of us will stay for Yizkor, the memorial prayers we say four times a year.  How does that sound?

I’m willing to change things up and I’m always open to ideas.  What can I do that will help you feel more connected.  What can I do, give me your wish list, to help you feel closer to Temple Beth Jacob and by that I mean the people of Temple Beth Jacob?

Your financial contribution to Temple Beth Jacob is a pretty precious goat that you bring year after year.  It’s a gift that deserves great respect. I’m willing to work hard to care for that goat.  I may have to learn new methods of animal husbandry, but I’m going to try.  But now I’m also asking for another goat, you, your time, your willingness to try some new things in the community.  I thank you for your trust and I hope you’ll join me.  I promise you’ll find personal joy in seeing how your sacrifice is put to good use.

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[1] Greg Wolfe

[2] Lucy Dinner

[3] Elisa Koppel

[4] Jeffrey Kurt-Lendner

Rosh Hashana 5774 P'sukim you can use.

P’sukim you can use

Rosh Hashana 5774

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

Rabbi Larry Freedman

People like to email me jokes.  Sometimes they are actually funny.  Fair warning, if you send me an internet joke that has been forwarded more than twice, I don’t read it.  If you send me an internet shaggy dog story with REALLY big font size and quadruple spacing between each line, I don’t read it.  If it involves rabbis, priests and walking into a bar, I don’t read it.  If you send me some urgent email decrying some horrific anti-semitic assault or proclaiming the end of civilization as we know it, I usually scan it, go to Snopes.com, confirm your email has been floating around the cybersphere for a few years and is completely bogus and then in as gentle a manner as possible, point out that things that are outrageous are usually untrue and ask that you forward a correction to all those people with whom you shared outrageous but altogether false gossip and slander.

But let’s get back to the jokes.  There is one joke in particular that people love to make and this one is not by email.  It’s in the real world.  It’s not a joke so much as a witticism.  Here’s the scenario.  You’re in a room.  There are windows.  Everything is fine.  You’re meeting, you’re talking.  Then, say, maybe an hour passes and the sun starts to set and you don’t notice but the room is getting dark.  Finally, someone notices and gets up and flips on the light switch.  And then someone, upon realizing how dim the room had become and how grateful they are for the light, will exclaim, “Let there be light!”  And everyone laughs.  I can’t BELIEVE everyone laughs because honestly it’s an old gag.  You’ve heard it before.  But laugh you do.

And to be sure, it’s good that you do because at the risk of analyzing this too much I would like to suggest that tossing a good old Biblical reference, this one is  יְהִי אוֹר Y’hi Or and it’s from Genesis 1:3, is a smart way to bring in your Jewish textual literacy to an otherwise common experience.

Indeed, to really push the point, I dare say you have made a mundane moment holy.  You have brought in the spiritual side via our holy text and elevated that moment of light switch flipping.  So, good for you light switch flipping Torah dropping quipsters.  You have forged a connection between your Jewish heritage and your secular life.  You have taken Torah out of holy ark lock-down and made it real in the world.

But, and here I don’t mean to quibble, but that’s like, the ONLY pasuk you quote.  Like that’s it.  Let there be light.  And we chuckle.  You’re bringing your 4000 year old heritage to modern experiences.  That’s great but… don’t you have another one?  4000 years, an entire Torah and all we’ve got is one gag?

Well, today, I’m here to help you out.  New year, new experiences, new p’sukim to drop in cocktail party chatter.  I’m going to offer you a few more that you can toss.  They won’t always get a laugh, but they will add a little holiness to your day.

Where to begin?  Where to begin?  How about we stay close to home.  After “let there be light” the very next pasuk, Genesis 1:4, is אֶת־הָאֹ֖ור כִּי־טֹ֑וב וַיַּ֧רְא אֱלֹהִ֛ים    Vayar Elohim et ha-or ki tov.  “And God saw the light and it was good.”  Ki Tov is the phrase we are interested in.  Ki Tov.  Say it with me.  Ki Tov.  “It is good.”  God creates light and then sits back to admire and pronounces, It is good, ki tov.  Why would God need to sit back and take in such Divine handiwork?  Surely, if God made something it must be good.  Surely, it must be awesome.  Surely, we are wrong.  God is not quite the omnipotent being we think God should be.  The Torah clearly has God being more powerful than us but not always more confident.  God will often rethink, be convinced and even sometimes be wrong.  Here, God tosses out the magnificent light and then stops to look over such handiwork.  And you know what?  Ki Tov.  It’s good.  It is.  God stepped back and after some consideration declared, “it’s good.”

Sometimes you may find yourself in a spot where you try something new, where you put yourself out there, where you write something or create something or cook something or vote on something or decide something or buy something and you’re still not completely sure about it.  You have a slight concern. You’re pretty sure it’s good but still…

And then, hey, what do you know?  It worked.  Ki Tov.  Ki Tov!  It’s good, it’s successful.  I did it.  We did it.  Ki tov.  Well done, ki tov.

Staying in Genesis, here’s another one.  Not funny at all, if you must know.  It’s more profound.

This is from Genesis 4:9. Cain just murdered his brother for complicated reasons we’ll save for another day.  God is looking for Abel.  Again, I ask, God doesn’t know already?  Maybe not.  Here’s the pasuk:  And God said unto Cain, “Where is Abel your brother?” And he said, “I know not. Am I my brother’s keeper?”

The key phrase for our purposes here is, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” הֲשֹׁמֵ֥ר אָחִ֖י אָנֹֽכִי  Try saying that one. הֲשֹׁמֵ֥ר אָחִ֖י אָנֹֽכִי  Hashomer achi anochi.  We may need to stick with the English.

You might already imagine a use.  Say you’re at work getting it done when the boss asks you where Joe is.  You could mumble, “How should I know?” Or you could say, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”  You could drop this one in all sorts of useful spots.  It is the Biblical equivalent to, “not my job, man.”

Unfortunately, while that is really useful for getting people off your back, it is completely out of context.  The actual meaning of this pasuk is that, yes, actually, yes, you ARE your brother’s keeper.  You are responsible for other people.  That is the joy and glory of community and that is the implied message of the quote from Genesis.  Yes, you are.  You are called upon to look out for your brother, your sister, your fellow.  You are supposed to keep an eye out.  Sure, you can’t be expected to worry about everyone but when God spoke with Cain there wasn’t a lot of everyone.  There was Adam.  There was Eve.  There was Able.  That was it.  So yes, in that small circle, yes you are responsible, we are all responsible for the people in our lives.  We are responsible to help them out, to worry about their welfare, to help them be the best they can be.  So, dropping, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” is a very deft, Biblical move but be aware, it comes with sarcasm and an uncomfortable truth.

One more from Genesis.  It’s 1:27.

   וַיִּבְרָ֨א אֱלֹהִ֤ים ׀ אֶת־הָֽאָדָם֙ בְּצַלְמֹ֔ו בְּצֶ֥לֶם אֱלֹהִ֖ים בָּרָ֣א אֹתֹ֑ו זָכָ֥ר וּנְקֵבָ֖ה בָּרָ֥א אֹתָֽם׃. 

Va yivra Elohim et ha-adam b’tzalmo, b’tzelem elohim bara oto, zachar u’nekavah, bara otam.

That is a lot so I’ll shorten it down.  The whole thing means, “And God created the man in His image.  In the image of God, He created him, male and female He created them.”  For our purposes, the key line is “bara oto, zachar u’nekavah, bara otam.”  He created him, male and female, He created them.  This is the fundamental line that justifies the egalitarian nature of Reform Judaism and I would argue the egalitarian nature of Judaism.  Some Jews want to say that men and women have different roles to play.  It’s hard to argue with them on that point.  I will argue with anyone who begins to diminish women’s voices or women’s presence in the community.  There is a not so subtle move between valuing different roles and raising one over the other.  This line, “He created him, male and female, He created them” speaks to the very foundational notion of the equality between men and women.  When it says that God created Adam, it’s reasonable to translate Adam as mankind.  So we get the instruction that God created man as in mankind, all of it.  But just to make sure you get the point, it adds, “male and female, He created them.”  It’s almost as if God says, yes, I created man and by man I mean men and women.  Both are in my image.  Both fundamentally have the same worth. 

And if men and women have equal worth, we do need to remember to treat them well.  We jump ahead to Leviticus 19:18 where we read, וְאָֽהַבְתָּ֥ לְרֵעֲךָ֖ כָּמֹ֑וךָ “love your neighbor as yourself.”  This one is for you when you face difficult circumstances and tiresome people.  This is when you are frustrated with your neighbor or your boss or your friend even.  We all get frustrated sometimes.  Instead of lashing out, instead of returning anger with anger or attitude with attitude, just remember, “love your neighbor as yourself.”  Try to put yourself in the other person’s shoes, take a deep breath and say, “love your neighbor as yourself.”  You have to find that inner strength to be kind instead of hostile, to be generous instead of stingy.  “Love your neighbor as yourself.” 

Here’s another one for work.  Say you are at work and there’s a shift at the top.  There’s a new boss and you start getting different requests and your work, which was fine, is now being questioned.  You could drop in,   וַיָּ֥קָם מֶֽלֶךְ־חָדָ֖שׁ עַל־מִצְרָ֑יִם אֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹֽא־יָדַ֖ע אֶת־יֹוסֵֽף׃ Vayakom melech chadash al Mitzraim asher lo yada et Yosef.  From Exodus 1:8, a new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph.  Joseph as we know, did right by the pharaoh of his day and saved Egypt.  He even enriched Egypt and the Hebrews.  Joseph’s people were held in esteem.  For a couple hundred years life in Egypt was good.  But then, one day, there was a new boss, a new king, a new pharaoh.  And he didn’t know about Joseph and didn’t care.  There was a new boss in town and all that good work done in the past was past.  So when you are feeling like somebody new comes into the picture and they don’t get what’s going on or worse they just skip over it and ignore the good that’s been done, you can drop in, “a new king arose who knew not Joseph.”

One more.  On beautiful days, when the temperature is perfect and the sky is beautiful and the humidity is right and the light is shimmering and you just are taking it all in, you have a moment to look up from your work, to look out from your home, to take in the world and see anew how wonderous everything is.  We can elevate that moment to holiness with a quick quote from Psalm 118: 24:   זֶה־הַ֭יֹּום עָשָׂ֣ה יְהוָ֑ה נָגִ֖ילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָ֣ה בֹֽו׃ Zeh yahom asah Adonai, nagilah v’nismecha vo.

“This is the day God has made, we will rejoice and find happiness in it.”  It’s a moment to tap our spiritual sides, to connect with something larger than ourselves.  Want to make it shorter?  “This is the day God has made.”  Sure, every day is a day that God has made but most of the time we grumble the weather isn’t exactly to our exacting standards.  Too hot, too cold, too dry, too wet.  Too something.  But every now and then, it all comes together and we are shaken from our whining and we remember to appreciate what is all around us.

That’s a good place to stop, on a nice uplift. 

Tossing in a few Bible quotes connects us to each other.  It connects us to our heritage.  And it inspires a deeper spirituality as ancient words are used for modern day issues and it reminds us that the things we feel were as important thousands of years ago as they are today and the words still resonate.  How wonderful we all can be here together to relearn that message.  How amazing we can share this day together.  How uplifting that we can begin the year together with a shared purpose.   זֶה־הַ֭יֹּום עָשָׂ֣ה יְהוָ֑ה נָגִ֖ילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָ֣ה בֹֽו׃  “This is the day God has made, we will rejoice and find happiness in it.” 

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Yom HaShoah Commemoration

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

April 12, 2013

Rabbi Larry Freedman

Where do we begin with a Holocaust commemoration?  Do we rehearse the rise of Hitler?  Do we retell stories of atrocities?  Do we offer silence in the face of what should be unimaginable?  Do we try to find something novel from the never ending flow of stories that detail the astounding horror and resistance during that time?  The depths of evil and the heights of bravery are still being discovered.  There is a new documentary called “No Place on Earth” about two families, 38 Ukrainian Jews in all, who lived deep underground in a cave for 502 days and survived.  This is an amazing story that I find astonishing and not at all surprising.  The more I learn, the more I learn not to be surprised.  The unbelievable becomes real time after time.  There are more stories yet to be discovered, yet to be shared that speak of heroism amid the horror.

How to speak at a Holocaust commemoration?  First we begin with history.  We honor the survivors, we grieve over the murdered.  We bring back some classic minor key East European liturgical melodies.  But then I have to look to the present day.  Is there anything more to these commemorations than history?  If they are just about history, then soon enough we will one day no longer have them.  People will forget.  Decoration Day was fading and so turned into Memorial Day.  Armistice Day was being forgotten and so became Veterans Day.  These things happen.  There are a number of Jewish holidays that commemorate an historical event which are remembered by very few.  The Fast of Gedaliah, anyone?

But there are other holidays that transcend their original intention.  Purim and Pesach are hardly just about what they are about.  There are many, many levels of meaning to these holidays and that is why they maintain their power to this day.

What will be the enduring power of Yom Ha-shoah?  That lesson was brought home to me in two episodes these last two weeks.  At the last minute, a chief master sergeant at the guard base called me up.  “Hey chaplain,” he said, “I just received this DVD with instructions from headquarters to have an Armed Forces Holocaust Remembrance program.  Can you say a few words?”   Um, sure, of course.  I did not know that there was such a thing as an Armed Forces Holocaust Remembrance program but indeed the Department of Defense has sponsored them for quite some time.  The US Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington sends out a DVD with some short videos that feature American military members past and present along with the memorial museum’s educators and so forth.  They were quite good.  But what would I say?  About 30 people attended including almost all of the command leadership which, given the short notice, was very good.  I asked, why should we have an Armed Forces Holocaust Remembrance program?  One woman started nodding her head as if to say, yeah why exactly am I here?

I offered a variation of the message of “never again.”  Those in uniform are granted the privilege of harnessing tremendous power that can bring astonishing violence.  I was taught by the Air Force itself that we are responsible for the professional application of violence in the service of our national interests. To see other men and women in uniform commit war crime after war crime and unleash their tools of violence on a scapegoat ought to make those of us in uniform today wince.  Those in uniform must remember that the power we hold is to be carefully guarded and honored.  And yes, we must follow our training and yes we must follow orders but always, in the back of our minds there must be a moment where we ask, is that a legal order?

The Air Force was very clear in teaching that we are not to follow illegal orders.  We are to stand up against them.  And yet, bad things are still happening.  When I talk to young people going to basic training, I tell them, don’t lose your head, don’t engage in hazing, don’t let some superior officer cow you into doing things that are wrong.  We can no longer accept “just following orders” as an excuse.  Yes, do what you are told but always keep in mind, in the back of your head, is this right?  Is this legal? And then find the courage to stand up against it.  Hazing, belittling, religious coercion, racial “jokes.”  These things are no Holocaust to be sure but they speak to a culture where those with more power can bully those with less and those with less rank assume that these things are acceptable if the higher ups are doing them.  And they are not.  And we with the higher ranks need to teach the new recruits to maintain one’s morality always.  “Never again” ought to be invoked much earlier than waiting for a full blown genocide. 

Currently, there is an awareness campaign and other efforts to combat sexual assault in the military.  It’s a problem.  I reminded them that we cannot offer pious bromides against sexual assault if we don’t also combat the problem of the bystander being silent.  The Shoah could never have been as devastating without the silence or help of bystanders.  The crimes of sexual assault are often not prosecuted because the victims have few people to turn to.  The bystanders are scared to intervene.  Again, it’s hardly genocide but the lesson of the Shoah shouldn’t be just for catastrophe.  We can stop catastrophe well in advance when we create a just culture.  Acceptance of sexual assault leads to a culture that accepts brutality and a culture that accepts brutality is a culture that accepts war crimes.  It is just that simple a line.

And that lecture in front of my base commander colonel was my nerve inducing resistance for the day.

Last week, I had another experience.  I’ve been teaching kitah zayin while our B’nai Mitzvah teacher Nava Herzog is recuperating from a broken foot.  The students and I got into a conversation about anti-semitism in their schools.  Apparently, penny throwing is not uncommon.  Apparently, it happens often.  Sometimes the kids told the teachers, sometimes they did not.  Sometimes they felt they couldn’t and that they just had to deal with it. 

“Never Again” is the slogan we chant but what it really means is, “we don’t have to take that crap anymore.”  We don’t have to put up with people who think picking on Jews is funny.  We don’t have to allow an atmosphere of bigotry develop even as the perpetrators say, “just kidding.”  We don’t have to let anti-Semitic parents be the role models.  Rather we need those children to go home and explain to their parents that school doesn’t think it’s “just kidding.”  Let the parents be embarrassed.  Let them take their hatred underground while the culture at the school retains its moral high ground.  Let them be ashamed of who they are, not us.  We don’t have to take that anymore. 

During the Holocaust, German Jews would be flabbergasted.  They would ask, “How could these hateful things be happening in Germany of 1939? “ Today, we don’t ask.  Today we demand:  These things must not happen in America in 2013.  End of story.  It is hard to stick your neck out like this but it is better that we do so and so we must. There are many things short of genocide that must happen never again.  We have to remember that.

This Tuesday is Yom Ha-Atzmaut, Israel Independence Day.  It is a festive day in Israel celebrating a country but also a people who has survived and thrived.  It is paid attention to here more or less.  But we should acknowledge what the State of Israel has done for us.  The internal politics there can be difficult, the problems never ending but politics that will decide the nature of the Jewish State have nothing to do with the meaning of the State of Israel to all Jews anywhere.  There will be no more Jewish genocides.  We have a place to go to, a government that will watch out for us and an army that will defend us.  We don’t take crap anymore.  That is a lesson of the Holocaust re-affirmed by the existence of our own state.

This is all a little bellicose for a moment of remembrance, no?  Perhaps, yes.  But sometimes all this remembering makes me angry and frustrated that so many had to die for nothing more than hatred and bigotry and a refusal of most countries around the world to care.  So I take that anger and turn it into vigilance and remind those in power to behave and remind those under the thumb of a bully to push back.  That is my response.

To make our transition from devastation to strength, let me close with a famous poem by Natan Alterman.  Chaim Weizman declared that, מגש כסף אין מדינה נתנת לעם על  “No state is ever given on a silver platter.”  Reeling from the Shoah, Natan Alterman saw the heroism of those who fought for and died for the creation of the State of Israel.  He wrote this poem in part to acknowledge the recent events and to acknowledge what Never Again requires.  Here is the The Silver Platter.

...And the land will grow still
Crimson skies dimming, misting
Slowly paling again
Over smoking frontiers

As the nation stands up
Torn at heart but existing
To receive its first wonder
In two thousand years

As the moment draws near
It will rise, darkness facing
Stand straight in the moonlight
In terror and joy

...When across from it step out
Towards it slowly pacing
In plain sight of all
A young girl and a boy

Dressed in battle gear, dirty
Shoes heavy with grime
On the path they will climb up
While their lips remain sealed

To change garb, to wipe brow
They have not yet found time
Still bone weary from days
And from nights in the field

Full of endless fatigue
And all drained of emotion
Yet the dew of their youth
Is still seen on their head

Thus like statues they stand
Stiff and still with no motion
And no sign that will show
If they live or are dead

Then a nation in tears
And amazed at this matter
Will ask: who are you?
And the two will then say

With soft voice: We--
Are the silver platter
On which the Jews' state
Was presented today

Then they fall back in darkness
As the dazed nation looks
And the rest can be found
In the history books.¹

About the shootings in Newtown, CT

Shooting in Newtown

Temple Beth Jacob

December 21, 2012

Like everyone else, I’ve been thinking about the shootings last Friday in Newtown, Connecticut.  It is a deeply sad event.  Unlike everyone else, it seems, I feel deeply cynical and without much recourse.  In a complicated situation I recoil from the simple pieties that people feel they must spout and I struggle to find some hope.

I’m afraid my deepest cynicism comes from the calls for us to learn this time.  This time we will do something, people say.  But that’s what we said last time and the time before that.  I fear that this time will be like the last time in that people who don’t understand guns and gun culture will call for their banishment, people who like guns will feel attacked, nobody will be willing to discuss or spend public money on mental health initiatives and the NRA has circled the wagons with a simple call for more weapons and armed security at every school every where.  People already have staked their positions firmly in concrete.  Some want to ban guns which will never happen.  Others see any regulation of anything having to do with firearms as an attack on nothing less than liberty and our way of life which is absurd and overwrought.  We’ll see if the murder of 20 children along with 6 teachers and one mother is enough to shock enough people to create political will.

The President seems motivated.  Despite fears and dread that once he became President he would seek to ban all sorts of firearms -the NRA openly said candidate Obama had a “secret plan”- this president has done almost nothing regarding gun control as he pretty much promised.  It is not his issue either because it isn’t or he doesn’t feel he has the political will do anything about it.  Before this past election I read similar fevered worries that now the President would ban all the guns because he doesn’t have to stand for re-election anymore.  My belief is that no such thing nor anything like it would have happened.  But now, maybe not.  The President is talking tough.  Sort of tough.  We’ll see what happens.

I’m also cynical at the outcry.  For the parents, for the friends, for those directly connected, there will never be enough tears.  I understand the terrible sadness and thinking of the young lives lost is awful.  There is a reason the Jewish tradition is to create headstones in the shape of a cut down tree for those who die young.  It is a symbol of a life never able to grow, never able to flourish.  We cry for those who cry but I can’t get past the idea that we cry for the unusual circumstance, for the terrible uniqueness of the situation and not for what is truly sad because where are our tears when children die in ones or twos?  Where is our outrage when an Oregon mall got shot up or when a movie theater is shot up?  Where are our tears for these people the President mentioned on Wednesday during his press conference?  He said:

Since Friday morning, a police officer was gunned down in Memphis, leaving four children without their mother.  Two officers were killed outside a grocery store in Topeka.  A woman was shot and killed inside a Las Vegas casino.  Three people were shot inside an Alabama hospital.  A four-year-old was caught in a drive-by in Missouri, and taken off life support just yesterday. Each one of these Americans was a victim of the everyday gun violence that takes the lives of more than 10,000 Americans every year -- violence that we cannot accept as routine.[1]

            And yet we do accept them as routine though we shouldn’t.  Aydan Perea was four years old and got caught in a drive by gang conflict shooting.  His death is, sadly, a local Missouri story because his death happened alone.  There is no moral distinction between Aydan and the 20 children in Newtown.  There is no difference between one child and 20 children being murdered aside from volume.  They are equally tragic, equally awful with no distinction other than we only seem to become emotional when the scale overcomes us.  We can, it seems horrifying to say, handle Aydan dying and any number of children dying if they don’t die all at once.

One study “by the US Center for Disease Control, and published in the American Journal of Pediatrics, studied injuries to persons 14 years of age and younger from 1993-2000. In that time period there were fatal gunshot injuries to 5,542 children, averaging 1.89 per day.”[2]  Another one from 2010[3] offered this:  “The researchers analyzed data on nearly 24,000 gun-related deaths among children 19 and younger from 1999 through 2006. That included about 15,000 homicides, about 7,000 suicides and about 1,400 accidental shootings for the eight-year period.”  Accounting just for the homicides, that’s an average of 1875 a year or 36 per week or five every day.  Yet we don’t weep.  We don’t even know.  But if you really want a good cry, if you really want to weep, imagine five parents you know having their children die by murder.  Then imagine the next day five more of your friends have their children murdered and then again the next day and then every single day.  How many days until you become outraged?

I am horrified by the murders in Newtown but outraged when people suggest as they always do that they didn’t think it could happen here.  It can happen here.  It is already happening here and everywhere in this country every single day.  Every single day.  And failing to know that or simply accepting that is truly grotesque.  But who knows, perhaps now, with such a volume of death, maybe now the political will can be found.  Maybe.

I’m cynical at the opinions some have been brazen enough to raise, that these deaths, terrible though they are, shouldn’t cause us to act emotionally and begin creating legislation and policies that regulate guns.  The usual argument that “guns don’t kill people” is out there and that “gun-free zones are useless” is out there and that “if only more people had weapons then a lone shooter wouldn’t have the freedom to wander the halls” is out there.  All of these are specious and either ignorant or intentionally missing the point to distract us.

I’m cynical at how the arrogant notion of American exceptionalism seeps into even cooler heads that allows to come up with all sorts of reasons for these shootings except the one that would let us look at our society as a whole and wonder if there is anything larger at play, something that might be embarrassing that we don’t want to look at because exceptional countries don’t have systemic problems.

I’m nauseated at the cruelty people toss when they divine that these deaths are the result of prayer not in the public schools as Mike Hukabee offered.  And I understand the need to comfort but I shake my head when pastors and our President say that these children have been called home.  No.  Their souls may live on with God but they were not called home as though playtime was over.  Indeed, they will never be called home again.  There will be sermons this week noting how Joseph consoled his brothers saying, do not worry and do not be sad; all my troubles were from God who wanted me to suffer so that I could arrive at this point.  The message is that God has a plan even with apparent cruelty.  The difference is that Joseph wasn’t murdered.  Whatever lesson he took from his trials didn’t require that he die to learn it.

But I’m hopeful that there is more talk than usual.  It remains to be seen if this outrage becomes just another story soon to be forgotten.  Time will tell.

I’m hopeful that even though it takes the deaths of 20 very young children, six teachers and one mother, a obscene requirement, people seem outraged over this more than usual.

I’m hopeful because I have no choice but to be that Vice President Biden will pull together some sort of policy agreement where all sides of the debate can find the strength to compromise.

In the meantime, we must do something.  Most importantly we need to talk to our elected officials particularly on a Federal level.  For this we must wait until January 3 when the new Congress is sworn in and our new Representative Sean Maloney assumes his office.  I worry that the moment will have passed but if we can maintain our outrage for just two more weeks, our first call January 3 should be to his office and demand that Congress work to create meaningful gun regulation that respects gun owners but limits accessibility and that mental health receive more research money and more street level clinics for people to turn to.  But we must tell them something else.  Wayne LaPierre of the NRA today gave his organization’s first response.[4]  He came out with passion and fire proclaiming the need to have more guns.  He called for every school in the entire country to have an armed guard at the entrance by the time school opens in January.  He avoided legal arguments and turned the tables on the emotional argument.  Instead of banning assault rifles to project children, why didn’t we have a weapon in the hand of a guard at the entrance?  Those children would be alive if they had.

Wayne LaPierre lives in a world where mass shootings will happen.  He lives in a world where the mentally ill will attack us.  He lives in a world that presumes criminals will open fire with assault rifles.  He begins his assumption that your child will come under fire.

When we call Congress, when we talk with our friends, we must reject that world.  I have a vision where assault rifles are not presumed to be available to all who want.  I have a vision of a world where an elementary school is not assumed to be under fire.  We do not have to buy into LaPierre’s world view.  Things can change.  Crime is down in this country.  Have you been to Times Square?  Where you there in the 70s?  I was.  It has changed.  Crime does not have to be a presumption.  We must reject the paranoid frame of mind that has given up on a peaceful society.  Wayne LaPierre has given up.  You do not have to.

We must stand up to and decry outrageous chatter and bluster and false premises.  We will never get anywhere with loud nonsense.  I fear the opposite will happen.  The strident will scream, the reasonable will tire and the issue will be forgotten until the next time and there will be a next time.

But we must hope because if we don’t believe we can make a change then we admit that we live in a world where mass shootings happen as an ordinary occurrence.  I don’t want to live in that world.  I’m cynical but I have hope.

---

[1] http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2012/12/19/remarks-president-press-conference

[2] http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_many_children_die_of_gunshot_wounds_daily

[3] http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/24/gun-violence-rural-urban_n_586722.html

[4] http://home.nra.org/pdf/Transcript_PDF.pdf

Happy Holidays

Here's my essay in the Times Herald Record:

http://www.recordonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=%2F20121209%2FOPINION%2F212090302&cid=sitesearch

Published: 2:00 AM - 12/09/12

Dear Christians,

This week, Jews around the world celebrate Hanukkah and so, I want to wish you a Merry Christmas.

Have a meaningful Christmas filled with whatever makes you merry. Whether it's joyful worship celebrating the birth of Jesus or simply gift-giving, I truly wish you the best.

You'll notice I didn't wish you a Happy Hanukkah. That wouldn't seem right, given that you are not celebrating Hanukkah. (Unless you are; in that case, Happy Hanukkah!)

And I didn't wish you "Happy Holidays" because, my Christian friends, I know that you celebrate Christmas. I also know that some of you have a problem with "Happy Holidays," and that's why I'm writing.

Every year there's a whole "Happy Holidays" kerfuffle because some Christians feel it degrades Christmas. Let me try to explain how I see it.

I believe "Happy Holidays" is an attempt to create a positive environment in stores.

Every marketer knows that a welcoming environment boosts sales, and I am grateful that capitalism welcomes all of us, regardless of heritage, to shop.

Human Resource directors took up "Happy Holidays" once they recognized that not all employees are uniform in belief and that "Christmas" wishes were alienating some of their workers. And let's remember Orthodox Christians who are disrespected when we forget they have a different date for Christmas. (It's coming up on Jan. 7.) If productivity requires different types of people to work together, why remind some of us we are on the outside? An office "Christmas" party sends a very clear message: we are not part of you.

And this is the heart of the matter.

If a store has only Christmas decorations, the message is it cares only for its Christian customers. If a public school celebrates only Christmas, then the message is very clear: Non-Christians are not truly part of the community. If my place of business can't be inclusive the message is that I am excluded.

We Jews are well practiced in being the minority. You, my Christian friends, have been in the majority for so long, I fear you may not understand so I respectfully ask you to trust me on this: When you insist that "Merry Christmas" be the only greeting allowed, you make it very clear that the rest of us are out, that we are not really part of America. That may not be your intention, but it is the result.

"Happy Holidays" is an American statement. It says that even though we all know which religion dominates, all Americans can partake in the feelings of good will at this time of year. "Happy Holidays" is kind and thoughtful and makes me feel like our place as a minority is valued by the majority. Some of you may grouse but we on the outside really do appreciate it.

Of course, let's not go overboard. My synagogue doesn't have a "holiday" party: We have a Hanukkah party. Likewise, it would be strange to have a "holiday" party in a church. (Exception made for and a respectful shout out to the Unitarian Universalists.)

To my Christian colleagues, neighbors and friends, have a very Merry Christmas. To all the rest of us, with respect, Happy Holidays.

Sincerely, Larry