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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