It's not about you. Rosh Hashana 5779

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It’s not about you.

Rosh Hashana 5779

September 9, 2018

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

Rabbi Larry Freedman

Once again we gather to begin this journey of ten days.  This is a process we begin, a journey we start that includes celebration and reflection, repentance for the past, goals for the future.  A new year is upon us and that is always an exciting time.  Rosh Hashana begins that journey as we share our excitement of being together as we take the first steps towards reflection and self-awareness so that we can finish in ten days committed to being ever more ethical and upright people.  We begin – once again.

I think one of the reasons we need to go through this annual exercise of reflection is simply because we don’t understand how we are perceived by others.  What I mean is, we don’t get in trouble for the big things.  We aren’t murderers and bank robbers, after all.  We get judged on things smaller, more intimate, more personal.  The challenge is that it’s very hard to recognize those small things.  It’s difficult to be objective for a very simple reason:  we are the center of our world.  The Earth may revolve around the sun but the world revolves around us.  So it seems.  And that is just natural.  Life is a never-ending experience with the world and how we respond.  Alas, because the world revolves around us, and by that I mean when we indulge the idea that the world revolves around us, we run into problems.  So many problems can be traced down to our feelings of hurt, our taking umbrage or just lashing out because the world doesn’t recognize the righteous position of me as the center of the world.  Everything would be better if people would just understand how hurt I am, how unfair everything is to me!  It is easy to see how we can get caught thinking that everything is about you.  But it’s not about you.

Each week in the New York Times, there is a column called Social Q’s by Philip Galanes.  It’s a cross between an advice column and an etiquette lesson.  It seems to me that almost every week there is a pithy answer to a question that could be answered more simply in this way:  it’s not about you.  It’s not about you!

Let me offer an example.  Here’s one from May 3, 2018.

My son is dating a wonderful woman: kind, hard-working, self-made. My husband and I would be thrilled if they married. She grew up in a country where people lick their knives during meals. Although she’s lived here for a decade, she still does this regularly. I’ve never raised the issue with our son; I want to be supportive. But if they marry and have children, their kids will likely pick up this habit from Mom. Our extended families might find fault, as would their children’s friends. How may I broach the subject with this lovely person?

ANNE

Answer:  So, this is about the imaginary friends of children yet to be conceived? (Color me skeptical!) The best-mannered people (somehow) manage to observe differences among us without judgment or comment.  This woman is not your child or mate, to whom you bear some responsibility. Nor do you seem to be her mentor, in which case, we might grapple with whether this knife licking is holding her back. She has simply kept a custom from home. Melting pots are like that: better for chunky stews than silky purées.  If she and your son marry and produce offspring, you will be entitled to express grandparental concern about sharp objects in tiny mouths. But that’s a problem for a far-off day. You’ve done very well to keep quiet about cutlery to date, and I encourage you to keep it up. A supportive mother-in-law trumps a Westernizing etiquette coach every day of the week.

If I were unkind, I would suggest she is really saying, “despite the fact that my son’s girlfriend comes from barbarian stock, it’s astonishing to see how she has civilized herself ; she even is hardworking.  My husband and I would deign to allow her to be part of our ever-civilized family.  It’s just that her barbarity has not completely left her…”

The potential grandmother is worried how this might affect the children’s reputation.  And yet I just can’t get past the need to set my Sunday morning coffee down and shout, “It’s not about you!”  I don’t think she’s concerned for the children’s reputation.  One knife lick in the first grade cafeteria will either get a dressing down from a nervous teacher or friends will be so flabbergasted that the child will stop.  Either way, I think the child’s assimilation into American culture will go forward.  It is the grandmother who has not made her peace.  She plays it like it’s about future children but it’s really about her standing among her family and friends.  She is loathe to have a knife licking barbarian as a grandchild.  Whatever will people think of her?

But it’s not about you.  The answer here is good but further work would require this good woman to be challenged to really consider what is bothering her. No one wants to imagine a child banished to a lonely lunch due to some unusual habit.  But that reasonable concern is blocking the real problem.  She is shifting her discomfort onto someone else instead of being honest and acknowledging what is truly concerning her. More on that to come.

Another one from this past July 19, 2018.

Plus-Ones for Singletons

My housemate and I are single and attending separate weddings where the brides have limited plus-one invitations to guests in serious, long-term relationships. This bothers us. We are close friends with these brides. (Is that why they think they can disregard our feelings?) And the friends we wanted to bring are closer to us than many people in serious relationships. Clearly, it’s the bride’s day. But how many free passes on social gaffes do we give them?

ANONYMOUS

Answer:  You can’t say, “It’s the bride’s day,” then quibble with her rules. In addition to curbing the spiraling costs of letting every guest bring a guest, limiting plus-one invites can increase the intimacy of their wedding. I mean, who wants to get married in front of a bunch of strangers?

Protesting the bride’s plus-one policy to accommodate a close friend suggests that the day is about your happiness, not the couple’s. (And didn’t we agree that it’s the bride’s day?) I realize that long-term partners are imperfect proxies for familiarity with the people getting married. But it’s simple and tends to work. So, I’m ruling: no gaffe here!

I think the answer here is simply, “It’s not about you!”  To me, the most interesting sentence is this:  “And the friends we wanted to bring are closer to us than many people in serious relationships.”  I mean, really?  Says who?  Not only is this person getting irritated at the bride not organizing her guest list to the guest’s preference, our guest has the gall to divine the nature of other people’s long term relationships.  Not only does the guest feel the right to bring a date, the guest looks down upon other relationships.  Oy vey.  Let’s say this together:  It’s not about you.

Let me offer a secret to having an easier life.  Don’t invent drama for yourself.  And the corollary to that is, let other people live their life as they see fit.  The bride has a vision of the guest list.  You are a guest and you have one job:  be joyful.  It’s not to question the food or be disappointed by the flowers or redefine her guest list or be snarky about anything at all.  You have one job: get dressed up, be pleasant and cheer on your friend.  That’s it.  Anything else is just drama that you invent.  Honestly.  It’s not about you!

A final one. My favorite.

I am a 36-year-old guy. For the last 10 years, my mom has invited me to Passover Seder. I never go. Religion is not my thing. But this year she didn’t invite me. We had a good talk the day before the dinner, so I don’t think she’s upset. But I heard from a cousin that the Seder went on as usual. I can’t help feeling insulted. What should I do?

NATHANIEL

Answer:  Insulted? If you weren’t 36 (and I didn’t object to corporal punishment), I would recommend a brisk spanking for you, Nathaniel. You haven’t once, apparently, in 10 years, given much thought to your mother’s hurt feelings at your declined Seder invitations. Still, you take offense the one time she forgets to invite you. Let’s acknowledge the sad truth: Your mother, like many, is probably a glutton for filial punishment. You would have been as welcome this year as any.

My suspicion is that the formality of inviting you slipped her mind in the rush of putting together a complex meal for many guests. (It’s not as if you were going to accept the 11th invitation, correct?) But let’s test my hypothesis: Mark your calendar now for next year; make a big show of telling Mom how much you want to attend; then go. Be sure to report back, O.K.?

His mother invites him.  He declines in a rather high-handed manner alerting us all to his clearly superior intellectualism that precludes him from getting involved in something as archaic as religion.  Forgetting the part about family gathering or the food or the family gathering or the nice opportunity for warm relations amongst the family or the food he just declines such things.  For ten years.  For ten years his mother sees all the family gathered round the table except one who refuses to participate.  I don’t think mom forgot to invite him.  I think she got tired of the charade of offering an invitation just to be insulted.  She wized up.  Look, she says, Nathaniel is not coming.  Why invite?  Why prepare?  Why bother to worry if maybe this year he’ll attend?  It’s not his thing.  We’ll see him Memorial Day. 

And yet, he has the chutzpah to be insulted that he didn’t get the chance to blow off the family!  He’s hurt because he couldn’t cavalierly dismiss what others enjoy!  And he heard from a cousin that the seder went off as planned.  Did he think that it wouldn’t?

It’s not about you.  The seder and your mother don’t revolve around you.  Now, it may very well be true that Nathaniel’s mother has done whatever she could to make it seem that her life revolves around him.  She might just be a terrific and loving mother who sets aside her needs for him and isn’t that wonderful.  But Nathaniel is not age 8 or 13 or even a young adult at 21.  He’s 36 years old.  Dude, you’re an actual adult now.  Your mother has other family and friends to worry about.  It’s not about you.  You’re in or you’re out, bro.  That is entirely up to you.  Leave your mother alone.

Back in July my friend Rabbi Rachel Van Thyn was our guest speaker for Tisha b’Av.  We met a few years ago in a class for Clinical Pastoral Education.  I learned a lot.  She became expert.  She now teaches and supervises others in the field.

One of the biggest things she taught me and teaches everyone is that it’s okay to feel our feelings.  In fact, more than okay it’s obligatory.  Feeling our feelings helps us understand what is happening to us and why we react the way we do.  Feeling our feelings and then identifying them is really important if we want to reduce the drama in our own life and behave better and more helpfully to others.

If something is bothering you it’s fine to feel hurt or irritated but it’s not enough to only feel hurt or irritated.  We have to consider what exactly is irritating us and think about why it is irritating us.  It may feel odd or uncomfortable to do this “inner work” as it is called but it does reduce the drama and helps us better amble through the world.  It helps us understand others and helps us resist thinking the world revolves around “me.”

So it’s not about you but still and all, it upsets you.  Why?  What are you feeling?  Dig down, be specific.  Identify the hurt.  Name it.  Say it out loud.  And then, once you wrangle that feeling, you’ll know it’s not about you.  It’s about this other thing.  And most of the time, releasing that other thing helps you move on and deal with it better.

Dig deep and be really honest about why your imaginary grandchildren licking that knife really bothers you.  Maybe you just really worry that in a tough world you don’t want a grandchild to be picked on for something unusual.  Or maybe you do have a little snobbery inside you.

Maybe you wanted to show off a new boyfriend at that wedding or maybe you are anxious about going there alone.  Maybe it’s something else that is making you a little anxious.  If you can figure that out, you can deal with it and not make the bride’s day all about you.

Maybe you really hate religious ceremony or maybe you really enjoy being the center of attention.  Maybe you’re a kill-joy who loves to turn his nose up at other people’s fun.  Maybe you have deep theological problems with gefilte fish.  I don’t know.  I suspect our 36 year-old man cannot abide not being in the thoughts of his family as they eat some matzah and this is what bothers him.

All these people need a therapist or just a really honest friend to hold up a mirror and remind them, it’s not about you.

Off we go into Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.  No doubt as we remember slights and mistakes we have made, we will recall the slights and insults and hurt other people have done to us.  So much hurt others have done to us.  So, so very much…  You have no idea how horrible people have been to me…

And then stop and remember the world does not actually revolve around “me” and that “it’s not about me.”  The hurt done to us could be real and personal or it could be a whole lot of other things.  If we can remember that, if we can open ourselves up to the possibility that things are more complicated than how we usually imagine, the source of our hurt is more complicated than we might think, we just might come out of Yom Kippur in ten days with some real insight, some real healing.  Let’s see how we do.

As if we are dead Kol Nidre 5778

As if we are dead

Kol Nidre 5778

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

Rabbi Larry Freedman

Rosh Hashana is about celebration.  The nine days following are about thoughtfulness, thinking deeply about how we lead our life.  And now, with the gates of heaven that were swung wide open nine days ago we begin the slow but unstoppable closing that concludes with our final neila service tomorrow night.  Now as we enter the final laps of the final day, as a new year is about to take off, we enter into the tension of Yom Kippur. 

We are at a moment in time.  We are able to make amends for the past and able to make plans for the future.  Mortified about the past, motivated for the future we are in this amazing position of choice and decision.  With each passing hour of the next 24, our chances to make amends for the past become fewer and fewer and our plans for the future are about to be put into practice with less and less time to prepare.  The clock is ticking, the urgency is real.  This is a moment in time that should shake you.  Does it?  Do you need some help being shaken?  Then let’s pretend “as if.”

At our Pesach seder we pretend as if we are there in Egypt waiting for the word to get up and leave.  During Sukkot we eat in a sukkah pretending as if we are wandering in the desert.  At Shavuot we pretend as if we are there at Sinai, the very first to receive Torah.  And now, with a new year ahead and an old year behind we pretend “as if” once again.  What if you weren’t here?  What if you were dead?  On Yom Kippur, we pretend “as if” we are dead.

Yom Kippur is a rehearsal for death.  Have you ever seen those roadside billboards or bumper stickers evangelical Christians post that say, “if you died today, would you be right with God?”  Or Jesus.  They probably would say Jesus but the point is that we have the same challenge.  (And don’t forget, as I often remind you, we came first with the notion.)  We have the challenge to be honest with our lives because if it ended right now, what would people remember about you?

When we sing Who by Fire, Who by Water, we sing the truest words ever written in liturgy.  How many of our friends and family died last year?  How many died peacefully and how many died in pain?  Which of our friends or family died suddenly and which ones suffered so much that death was a blessing?  In our country, in our county, some died by fire, some by water.  Some are blessed with long life; some leave us tragically too soon.  We could not have predicted it even though we knew it would happen.

Now as we look forward, we are pulled up short and reminded that just as we could not predict last year, we cannot predict this year.  The sad reality for me as I look out over you all is that I will be officiating at a funeral for someone here or a family member of someone here.  I don’t mean to bum you out but that is a truth we must face. 

There are five things we do not do on Yom Kippur.  Why not?  To pretend as if we are dead.  We don’t eat and we don’t drink.  Neither do the dead.  We don’t wear leather or anoint with oils, signs of luxury that are limited to this world.  We don’t engage in sexual relations, a very earthly joy.  And this kittle I’m wearing in which I was married one day, please God it should be far in the future, I will be buried in.  I am dressed for a rehearsal for death.

Kol Nidre begins with the Torah scrolls taken out as witnesses in a court room and we wear our tallit at night, a once a year event, playing the parts of both members of the court and the defendant wondering how we shall be judged.  We are on trial as if at the end of our life.

If you died today, would you be okay with your life?  That is the bumper sticker question and I suggest to you that it doesn’t work because we can dismiss it as silly.  You see, I’m not dead so why do I need to think about it?  We can drive past the roadside billboard and not worry if we are right with God were we to die today because, well, because I’m driving somewhere and the radio is on and I’m very much not dead so leave me alone already!

The signs don’t catch me because while they are provocative they leave no lingering impact.  As soon as the light turns green.  I hit the gas and I’m gone.  Yom Kippur says, “I know I’m not dead.  You know you’re not dead.  But what if, what if we played a little game and pretended.  What if we took 24 hours and really tried to imagine it.  What if we leave our worries of the world outside and forget about eating and drinking and customary joys.  What if we gave ourselves the space and time to really think about this?  Let’s not do this at 55 miles per hour.  Let’s take a whole day.  What if I were dead?  I know I’m not and it’s really morbid but… what if I were dead?  How did I do?  Let’s not feel guilty, now.  No guilt allowed.  Just an honest question:  what did I leave on the table?  Do I have regrets?  Again, and this is important, no guilt.  Just ask yourself, honestly, if today were the day to tell the end of my story, how would my story turn out?   

Today is not the end of your story but let’s pretend it is.  I invite you to talk with your family, a good friend and ask them, “how ’m I doing?”  Ask them, if today were the end of my story, what would you say?  Brutal, I know but that is what this day is about.  And then make a plan to write another chapter.  Maybe you’ll write the next chapter just like the last chapter.  Maybe you’ll write the next chapter completely differently.  Maybe somewhere in between.  Just be honest with yourself.  This is rough stuff but it is what this day is made for.

The gates of repentance were swung wide open on Rosh Hashana, they begin to close now.  Little by little they inch a bit closer.  Tonight we reflect.  Tomorrow we reflect.  Read the prayers a little more closely.  Use the music to lift your thoughts to a place of introspection.  Use our new machzor and let your eye wander reading that which resonates with you, that which moves you.  Be here with the community as you have your individual moment as the gates close.

Tomorrow we gather again and the gates close some more.  We will struggle with hunger and our avoidance of earthly joy because our minds are elsewhere.  The day will go on and the gates will be closing and as the afternoon arrives you will stand before the ark and our Torah for a final private moment and the gates will shut and we will have made it.  We will have gotten through the day and we will eat!  We will break that fast not as a symbol of gluttony but as a statement:  I am alive, I am alive and the new year looms before me!  We eat that bagel with joy and we drink that juice having made a promise to write the next chapter well.  That break fast is not the conclusion of the day.  Dead people don’t eat, remember?  That break fast is the real start of the year.  Pretending is over.  You are alive!  You eat the whitefish to live and with the privilege to live another year comes the sacred challenge to write your next chapter.   The end of the story is not yet here.  I have more to write.  You have more to write.  For the next 24 hours, let’s think about what we’ll write.

Sitting on a Porch Yom Kippur 5778

Sitting on a Porch

Yom Kippur 5778

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

Rabbi Larry Freedman

I’m sitting on the porch in a comfy wicker chair taking in some fresh air.  There’s a little stream below me and just enough woods where I can hear the cars passing on the road but I can’t see them.  It’s a lovely day where it feels like summer in the sunshine but autumn in the shade and it’s very, very relaxing.  I brought my shofar because my partner on the porch is too sick to come to Rosh Hashana so I thought she might enjoy hearing the sound one last time.  She’s pretty sure she’ll be dead by next Rosh Hashana.  She hopes so.  Getting old is no picnic.  Getting sick, I mean really sick, is terribly difficult.  It’s time, she tells me, you know?  It’s time.  This declaration doesn’t throw me.  I’ve learned you have to listen to people.  If someone tells me they want to die and they aren’t in their geriatric years and they don’t have a serious life ending disease, there is a very specific response to that.  When they are in their geriatric years and they do have a life ending illness, there is a very specific response to that as well. So I ask:  “What do you mean?”

She loves her children, her children-in-law, her grandchildren.  She has raised them well.  She feels good about it how they turned out and she feels good about how she and her husband raised them.  She’s not bragging.  She’s assessing.  She’s looking back and offering a pat on her own back.  The kids are okay.  And the children they had, oh my!  Her grandchildren are terrific, she says.  Each unique, each delightful, each getting ready to face the world.  She’ll never make it to a wedding.  That will not happen but she doesn’t worry for them.  She’s confident in her grandchildren.

She tells me, as she sits there, that she is ready to go.  The death of her beloved husband a few years back was so difficult but it’s even harder now as she’s less mobile.  She’s ready to join him.  And you know what else, she tells me?  She’s done everything she could and she’s done it well.  She was as good a child as she could have been, as good a wife as she could have been, as good a mother as she could have been, as good a grandmother as her health let her be.  It’s not to brag, you know?  It’s just sitting there in a wicker chair on a perfect wraparound porch on a perfect day she is satisfied, comfortable, at peace.  Even with mistakes, moments of regret, instances of sorrow, the usual foibles, failings, and shortcomings that a normal human being experiences through the course of life, all in all, on balance, she’s done it.  She has reached the finish line.  How do you know when you’ve made it?  I don’t know but she has made it.  And she is satisfied and she is ready to die.  It’s time.

How blessed, how fortunate, how lucky she is to be able to know that.  How blessed, how fortunate, how lucky she is to have the presence of mind not to bemoan but to consider and appreciate.  I hope I get to sit on a porch to reflect on how good life was to me and how well I used my life.

But I don’t get to sit on a porch, not for a long time.  Deborah and I have a long life together, the boys are starting careers and then there is this thing where I have to deal with Nazis.  I have to be the best man I can be, the best husband I can be, the best father I can, the best rabbi I can be and now deal with Nazis.  Honestly, I cannot believe I have to do that.  Nazis, these neo-Nazi and white supremacists are something the folks over at the Southern Poverty Law Center monitored.  They are something the Anti-Defamation League tracked.  Homeland Security and the FBI have always been up to speed on who these people are.  I never thought that I had to figure out what my personal response should be because these groups were too small and too underground and already watched.  And besides, nobody but the most hate filled of the hate filled wanted anything to do with them.

Now they are here and louder than ever with a wider reach than ever and I just don’t think I have the luxury of sitting on a porch and figuring they’ll go away on their own.  The alt-right, for those who don’t know, is a loose term for various white supremacists groups.  Some of them are your hate filled neo-Nazis, some are your suit and tie wearing spokesmen offering the reasonable sounding idea of identitarian politics.  Richard Spencer coined the phrase.  He swears he’s not into violence but he believes America is a white European style country founded by white Europeans for white European descendants.  He believes that multiculturalism is set out to diminish white people, to steal from white people what is theirs and to ruin the white culture of this country and he is going to do something about that.  If you’ve ever heard someone say that black people have some advantages over white people, he’s got their number.  Just that little bit, that tiny moment where a person wonders if they need to stick up for white people, that’s all the opening he needs to seduce folks into a well dressed version of white supremacy.  Can’t happen to you?  Maybe not but the goal of these people isn’t to have 51% of the population join the Klan.  The goal is to have just enough people be sympathetic to their cause.  The goal is to have people say, “I’m not a white supremacist but I do think they are on to something…”  The goal is to get you to say, “I’m no hater but there are an awful lot of brown people around here and I don’t like the changes.”  The goal is to get you to say, “I’m no racist but I heard those Muslims don’t follow our laws.”  That’s the goal.  And then comes the legislation.  Don’t think it can’t happen here?  It is already happening.  And now we have to figure out what to do about it.

And don’t think you are safe if you’re a Jew. Jews don’t count as white.  Jews are the source of so many problems and alt-right members are not afraid to say that.  We now have people chanting proudly that, “Jews will not replace us” and we have internet graphics that say, “Admit it; deep down you know Hitler was right.”

Can I go back to the porch?  Can I just focus tightly on family and friends?  I just want to reflect on a good life well lived.  But I can’t because it’s not my time.  And there are Nazis.

Am I an alarmist that I think we need to respond powerfully to this?  We’ve seen fascist movements in the past.  We know that the silence of good people allows it to blossom.  This has been proven again and again.  One day I’ll be in a wicker chair on a porch.  I really hope I’ll be able to look back with confidence that I did all I could to stop it.

A friend in Pittsburgh sent me an article after the marches and riots in Charlottesville.  The piece decried the violent antifa counter-protesters.  I was surprised.  There are Nazis and my Jewish friend could only see the anarchists.

I’m opposed to those violent anarchists.  Anyone who smashes windows ought to be arrested, tried and sent to prison.  I have no sympathy.  Protest, yes.  Vandalism, absolutely not.  When I try to read their anarchist ideas, I find them juvenile.  But you know what I don’t find when I read their ideas?  I don’t find the idea that black people are inferior, that brown people are inferior and that Jews ought to be dead.  I don’t find in their writings or their slogans or even in their smashing of windows a message of murdering Jews.

But the neo-Nazis would very much be quite happy if someone put a bullet in me.  And you.  And your children and grandchildren.  In case you don’t know, the non-Jews who are part of our community would be considered race traitors so you are not out of danger, either.

That porch is so inviting.  Just to sit and reflect and not have to worry anymore.  I don’t want to worry about Nazis.  I don’t want to worry about the fate of American democracy.   I don’t want to.  But I have to because it is not my turn to sit on the porch.  I can’t look back with so much ahead of me.

Anarchists.  Nazis. What year is this?  I have to talk about idiots who break windows and idiots who don’t want us around?  I guess I do.  Mark my words:  in just five years these alt-right people will either be shoved back underground or well on their way to political respectability winning local then state, then federal elections.  There is nothing in between. Don’t think it can’t happen?  It’s already happening.  How do I not speak to this?  How do you not speak to this?

One day I’ll be sitting on a porch looking back and I will wonder, did I do enough?  I pray that I can give the right answer.

I’m sitting in my office with a grieving family.  Most families I meet are there to discuss a funeral for someone elderly or sick.  It’s sad but it often turns just a little bit, just a little bit joyful because the families get a chance to remember.  I shouldn’t tell you too much about what goes on behind the scenes but it’s pretty common for people to think they’ll show up for a quick chat and then find themselves an hour or two later sniffling happy tears of memory.

People assume everyone says the same old clichés, that he was an amazing grandfather or that she was the best mom.  That’s true 80% of the time.  But that other 20%, my, oh my.  Sometimes there is very little positivity to be found.  I sit there with pen in hand writing down some notes when someone says, “maybe you should put the pen down” and all sorts of truths come out.  Nothing too scandalous.  Nothing felonious.  It’s just that we live our lives ensconced in our own minds and we don’t really know for certain how we come across.  We have an approach, an idea, a philosophy that makes sense to us and we express that in how we treat our friends or raise our children.  We live our lives in a certain way and rarely reflect to ask the question, “How’m I doing?”  When we die, when we cross the finish line, we leave it to others to comment on how we did.  We leave it to others to describe how our lives were lived.

I wonder what my family will say about me?  Each time I sit with a family I’m aware I sit before a tableau that will be recreated for me some day.  It forces me to think about my life and how I’m doing.  I wonder what Deborah will say or what the boys will say.  A lifetime of sibling interaction and what will come out of it?  What will my congregation say?  And did I do enough for my community or my country? 

This is a moment in time where we are watching the very serious beginnings of American fascism.  It is slick and organized and popular and it is happening right now, and we don’t know which way it’s going to go.  There is absolutely no reason to believe it will fade on its own.  Only my children and grandchildren will be around to understand what happened in 2017, at this moment.  They will know if it took over or if it was defeated.  Will they be proud of me that I did something about it?  That I tried?  Will they regret the world they live in and wished I had done more when there was a chance?

I’m sitting in my office with a pen and pad at the ready while across from me sits a couple very much in love and planning on getting married.  They’ve been together for a few years but something about getting married is inspiring them to look at each other anew.  They sit apart, nervous in front of the rabbi.  By the second meeting there is hand holding and long glances.  There is pride as each listens to the other.  There are dreams and dreams of dreams far into the future.  There is hope and there is optimism and there is everything glorious about getting out into the world with a partner.  There is a future.  This is the start of their story as a couple and often it is the start of their story as proper adults.  They realize that they get to figure out the Jewish life they want to create in their home.  They get to figure out the values by which they will live as a couple.  They get to figure out the way they want to raise their children.  They have to figure out how to organize their finances and they have to figure out what is important to spend money on.  The whole future is open to them.  It is the very beginning of the story.  Who knows how it will end?  Someone will know how it will end.  They have a lifetime to get it right. 

You have the remainder of your lifetime to get it right before you sit on that porch.  There’s a lot going on in your families.  There’s a lot going on in the world.  You still have time.

Ready?  Go.

After the sermon, people asked me what they can do.  First and foremost, I believe we have to return racism to be socially unacceptable.  Whether in social media or in person, if someone makes a racist crack or some such hatred, tell them it's racist and you don't like it.  Don't name call, don't insult, don't get distracted.  Just state the facts and then don't take the bait when they call you names in return.  Secondly, stay informed.  Read about what is happening from a variety of sources.  Third, there is so much more you can do but you have to do some research yourself.  You might want to read about Life After Hate (lifeafterhate.org) and support it.  It is a group of former white supremacists who help others leave that life (it can be very hard to get out).

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The Whole World is Blessed by You Rosh Hashana 5778

The Whole World is Blessed by You

Rosh Hashana  Day 1

Temple Beth Jacob of Newburgh

Rabbi Larry Freedman

The story of the Akeidah is the most famous of Torah stories because it is read every Rosh Hashana and because the topic is child sacrifice.  For those who don’t know the story, Abraham is called by God.  He responds simply with “hineini, here I am” ready to accept whatever is to come.  God tells him to take his son to the spot God will show him and offer him up as a korban.  Without a word, he begins the process.   Along the way Isaac asks, “Father, I see you, I see me, I see the wood for burning, I see the knife; where is the ram for the korban?”  Abraham replies, God will provide it.  They arrive, Isaac is bound –the word akeida means binding- Abraham lifts the knife.  At that moment, at just that moment, God calls out to Abraham and again Abraham answers simply, “hineini, here I am” ready to accept whatever is to come.  And now God says, “Do not raise your hand against the boy or do anything to him.  For now I know you have not withheld your son, your favored son from me.”

Phew!  This is a crazy story, a maddening story.  It is praised as a test of faithfulness and condemned for its abhorrent cruelty.  It is seen as a dramatic break with the reality of child sacrifice; this new faith would never have it.  But couldn’t God have made that point more succinctly?  Did God have to sweat the old man?

There are many, many questions to this story.  Rabbis at Rosh Hashana have been mining it for a millennium finding something new.  For me, there is one more line that has always bothered me.  It is a moment that comes at the end of the story.  By now, at this dénouement, we are so relieved we barely care about anything else so the pasuk doesn’t get much attention.  It begins with God giving this promise in reward for Abraham’s fealty:  “I will bestow My blessing upon you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars of heaven and the sands on the seashore; and your descendants shall seize the gates of their foes.”  It concludes, “All the nations of the earth shall bless themselves by your descendants because you have obeyed My command.”

What does it mean that the nations of the earth will be blessed by Abraham’s descendants?  I understand how we, the descendants of Abraham, might be blessed.  The merit of Abraham was so great it passes down to the Jewish people through the generations but how would the other peoples of the earth benefit?

Maybe the other nations are blessed because we ended child sacrifice.  This story was a massive break from what was commonplace. Or, perhaps we bring blessings to the world through the example of our practice and our values.  We Jews, committed to living with others in the modern world and mindful of being a minority aren’t prone to bragging but perhaps we should just take a moment and be proud of what we have brought to the world.    Let’s start first with the gift and novelty of Shabbat. 

We brought the Sabbath to the world and through that taught two ideas.  One, we are not slaves.  We are not slaves to a master, we are not slaves to a clock, we are slaves to no one.  We have this reminder, this insistence, this very commandment from God to remove ourselves from work so we can be appreciative of what our labor has given us, and share that with family and friends.  Secondly, we have taught the world that the spiritual, that which inspires the soul is just as important as the physical.  God did not create the world in six days with a day off.  God created the world in seven days.  The point of that story is that rest is not slacking off.  Rest, appreciation, inspiration, reflection is part of Creation, is part of what makes the world great.  A life without Shabbat, a life without a day to appreciate, to spend time, to indulge, to relax, is the life of the slave.  A life with Sabbath rest is the life of the fully living.

Perhaps we ought not to forget that we brought the idea of monotheism to the world.  In our own Jewish way we have multiple ideas of what God might be but if we believe, we believe in just one God.  And that seems to have worked well for Christians and Muslims who added their own approach to that idea.  Billions of believers are blessed in the type of faith that we began.

We brought a sense of justice and ethics as proof of loyalty to God in place of killing our children.  We taught the world that justice and ethics, the insistence that morality is what God wants.  Ritual, yes, but ritual only when it serves to teach and make manifest the justice and ethics God truly wants.  This idea surely has been a blessing to the world, although lost to those have gotten lost in their piety.

Not that the Jewish people were perfect.  We did have moments in our history of killing and violence.  And we still have segments of our people who are dismissive, even a little racist towards others.  We are not perfect.  But when we strayed, the prophets reminded us the end goal always was to live a life of ethics and justice.  You can argue we failed from time to time but you can’t argue it wasn’t the goal.  We brought to the world an aspirational approach to living.  The world is imperfect but we must make it perfect.  The world is filled with injustice.  We must bring justice.  We must live in such a way, witness in such a way, be a role model in such a way that the peoples of the world are inspired to bring justice to the world.  In that way we are a blessing.  Some of us fail in that goal.  But many, many Jews live each day with that very notion in the forefront of our minds.  Many of us do try to live a moral life because it is right and because our neighbors, our friends, our children are watching and we want to model right behavior and we want to be positive exemplars of the values of Torah.

These are all things we have brought to the world and we should all be proud of that.  There is one more thing we brought that is still fairly unique to us, the idea of belonging to a people, not just a faith.

In many other religions, you are in or you are out based on what you believe.  Jews developed a more open approach, an understanding of our selves grander than the specifics of faith; our approach is peoplehood.  We have Jews who have firm belief in God.  We have Jews with no belief and Jews with everything in between.  We have Jews who are proud because of our history or our commitment to study or our meaningful holidays or our passion for justice. We have Jews who love being part of the Jewish people for our culture.  And we have non-Jews who love being part of the Jewish people.  Some have converted, some are planning to convert, some are thinking of maybe converting and some are happy as they are, happy to be part of this big wide ranging tribe.  We have all these people tapping in to the vast repertoire of Jewish life and they, you, find meaning there.

We’ve used this idea, this open, expansive understanding of peoplehood to lead us towards the partnership model at Temple Beth Jacob and I want to say a few words about how it’s going.

This place here along the Hudson River has been blessed since 1854 to have Jews and Jewish families contribute their time, energy and money to keep it going.  We know that outside of Israel, if we want to be part of a Jewish community, we have to make that community real.  We need our institutions, our buildings, our staff to keep things going.  And you all have risen to that challenge.  You have accepted that you are partners in this ongoing adventure to keep Jewish life alive in the mid-Hudson Valley.  You have understood and accepted the challenge that stated plainly, if you want this place to exist, you have a personal stake in keeping it here.  And I want to tell you, our partnership program is working.  The idea that you can determine your support is working.  In an earlier day, some would have had to show a 1040 or have an embarrassing conversation or, truth be told, would have walked away because they didn’t want to be embarrassed.  And now these families, whoever they are, understand they are wanted.  That is the most important aspect of the partnership program.  Because you contribute whatever you can, big or small, you commit to keeping us going.

The biggest concern synagogues have when thinking about a partnership model is the fear that everyone will chip in $100 and be done with it.  For the most part, that didn’t happen because you, our partners, understand what Temple Beth Jacob means to you and your family.  But we do have some problems.  Some of problems are systemic.  We have had problems getting pledge cards out and making sure they come back in.  Some people don’t contribute because the synagogue no longer sends bills, as it were, so they don’t receive the expected prompt.  Some people put off deciding what they will contribute and then they just forget to do it.  And some people, a few, are assuming they can just contribute a minimal amount even though they could contribute more.  Now that’s fine but if those who can do more contribute a bare minimum, we will shut our doors.  The market will decide if there is value here.

Unlike the dues model, you can’t carry a balance.  If, for whatever reason you didn’t make a contribution for last year, we have to assume you are no longer interested in being a partner in our community.  Your support, whatever that is, means you support the idea of Temple Beth Jacob being here.  Now, we know that some people just forget so the Board members make phone calls to remind you but that is not the goal.  The goal is to build the habit and understanding that your contribution is just that, yours and we hope you will fill out your card promptly and follow through.  No one on the Board wishes to be a nudge.  As we get better with the partnership approach, we hope to eliminate the need for the nudgy calls.

As each year goes on, the Board will look at our budget and let you know what we need.  Don’t expect someone else to make sure Temple Beth Jacob continues.  Each household has the responsibility to contribute as best as it can.  You hold the future of us in your hands.  That is a powerful and sacred privilege.   

And by the way, you should know that I get a couple calls a year from other rabbis asking how we did it.  We are known out there as a model of success.  I hope you take pride in that.

Enough with business.  After a lovely summer, we come back together as a community, this corner of the Jewish people, for a whirlwind of holidays and celebration.

The partners have gathered for a partners meeting to discuss the future of ourselves.  How did we do?  No guilt, no shame; just a fair question.  How did we do?  Where did we succeed?  Where did we go wrong?  This afternoon we will glory in the astonishing beauty of the Hudson River and the Beacon hills as we cast our sins upon the water.  Tomorrow, we get out of this room, get up from a chair and get out into nature for a hike. We are taking a lovely stroll at Manitoga in Garrison.  Our hike is not just for the people in tefillot in the morning.  Everyone is welcome for a judgment free easy hike.

After the hike we are in the ten days of reflection.  Give yourself some time to really think about your life.  Talk to a spouse or child or friend.  Reconnect with a sibling.  Try, really try, do the work, to think about where you have gone right and where you have gone wrong.  Be a role model to your friends and family, to the whole world that we Jews have a way to break through stubbornness and a way to embrace contrition even if it is hard.  Engage the challenging questions of 10Q.

Next, take the fast of Yom Kippur seriously, spend your time in this room seriously.  Adopt a contrite attitude and you will soon feel contrite, you will soon feel repentant.  And then we get out of this room once more.  If Yom Kippur is about spending time inside the sanctuary, Sukkot is a demand to be outside.  We are commanded to set up a hut outside the sanctuary.  For seven days we are commanded to live in the sukkah so we are going to do our very best to do that.  October 4, erev Sukkot, our annual, wildly successful pot luck dinner in the sukkah.  And no complaining if it’s cold.  Sukkot is called the season of joy, not whining so wear warm shoes and be joyful to gather in our beautiful sukkah.  October 5, the first full day, come over to the sukkah with your own lunch.  If you don’t have your own sukkah, pack up dinner and come eat in ours.  The sukkah is open from the outside.  Unless it’s raining, there will be tables and chairs.  Plug the lights in and enjoy dinner outdoors with the family.  Bring dinner or order a pizza to be delivered.  Seriously.  No reservations.  Just bring your dinner. 

October 7 we are having our first Sukkot Dine Around.  Hors d'oeuvres in the sukkah, dinner in someone’s home, back to the sukkah for dessert.  This is going to be a very fun, very lively time.  October 8 Sisterhood has a tea in the sukkah and the Sunday school will be in their shaking the lulav.  October 9 the JCC has their lunch and learn in the Sukkah.  So many activities, so many chances to be joyful.

And then we wrap it up with Simchat Torah.  Once again, we are cleaning a Torah.  We had a big crowd last year grab erasers and go to work cleaning the actual parchment.  It was very moving and very joyful.  This year Nefesh Mountain, a Jewish bluegrass band, will help us celebrate.  The band will be playing as we dance the Torah scrolls out of the ark, into the social hall where we’ll stretch the scroll over long tables so everyone can get in and clean it.  You do not want to miss this. That which is most precious, most holy is turned over to you so that you can truly be a steward of Torah.  The protection and maintenance of Torah as our way of life is most literally in your hands.  Never more powerfully does the meaning of partnership become so clear.  We are partners, all of us, in protecting and promoting Torah. You do not want to be a silent partner.  In our hands is the thing we have died for and the thing we live for.  In your hands is the responsibility to clean the scroll so that you become like art conservators, protecting this for the next generation. 

And here, again, we become a blessing returning us to the promise of the end of the Akeidah.  We show the world that what is most precious is not to be kept behind glass but to be engaged, to be handled.  What is most precious should be challenged and should challenge us.  What is most precious may also be difficult but we do not shy away from difficulty.  We are here to live out our promise.  We are here to proclaim that the Jewish holidays have a claim on our souls that their message inspires us.  We are here to say, when the call comes, hineini, Here I am, ready to be a partner, ready to be a Jew.  And when we do that, each one of us in our own small way becomes a blessing to the world.