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Erev Rosh Hashana 2008/5769
Why I Like The Big Jewish Picture
Rabbi Andy Koren
Temple Emanuel, Greensboro, NC
Rosh Hashanah Eve, 5769
I once went to a special exhibit of modern Jewish art at the gallery of the University of Florida. This gallery prided itself as being cutting edge and the modern Jewish art that they brought in was quite impressive. It was also a bit provocative. Not in a racy sort of way. But in a way that made you think and feel.
There was one painting that I will never forget. It was not of a landscape or of some scene from history. Rather, it was a gigantic white canvas, huge enough to stand out on one of the walls here in Temple. And on this white canvas there was just one word: jew. It was painted on the canvas. It stood out. The “j” was lower case. And I – and many other people stood in front of that painting, perhaps more than anything else in the entire exhibit. So many emotions. So many things came to mind.
I remember thinking: how should the sheer size of that word – jew – made me feel? We are such a small people. But we have so much to be proud of. And shouldn’t that “j” there be capitalized?
I am a Jew with a capital J. And you are, too. And if not, you are likely either someone who is on the way to choosing Judaism or someone who is a close ally of our people – through marriage, friendship, family, or life experience. We are only a fraction of a fraction of the world’s population. That not withstanding, we are a beautiful and proud family, us Jews.
I am a Jew with a capital J. You are, too. And tonight, as we have gathered for the beginning of the New Year 5769 I want to share some of things that are most appealing to me about our tradition. What is so special about how we as Jews view the world? At this very holy hour, what are the beliefs that make us who were are?
The fact is that Jewish people usually talk very little about what we believe in. For some reason, our beliefs are not often part of the conversation. That is, until we are confronted by others. Think about it – there are 613 commandments in the Torah – none of which are “Thou shalt believe…” And in a world where you have religions that focus on deed (on what you do) and those that focus on creed (on what you believe), we Jews are a people that focuses on deeds or actions. In this respect, we are quite different than our Christian friends who, and I am painting with very broad brush strokes here, will tell you that it is your belief and not necessarily your action that is the key to salvation. For us Jews, what you do matters the most. So, it should be no surprise that we are often talking about what we should be doing – coming to the Temple for the high holidays, making Shabbat an important part of our lives, being involved with community events, celebrating important Jewish life cycle events, eating, all along the way weaving in narratives from our history and imperatives about giving to and caring for others.
I am a Jew and I believe that there is one and only one God. I like this belief. God is One – with a capital O. Oneness. There is a custom that when we say the Shema and declare God’s Oneness, Adonai Echad, that we should emphasize the last letter of this phrase. God is EchaD. You can see the enlarged D – the capital dalet – on the wall here. One God. Period.
This God is big enough for the entire spectrum that makes up Judaism, for the rationalist and the mystic. For the Orthodox, the Conservative, and the Reform. God is big enough for those who accept the idea of an all-powerful God, and those who see God’s powers as having limits; those who argue that God is beyond nature and those who sense God as the power that drives nature and the universe. God is big enough for those of us who are broken-hearted, different, and bereaved together with those considered gifted, special, privileged. This is the one God of the 103 year old and the 3 month old, and all points in between and beyond. I talk to many people who say they don’t believe in God, but usually they mean that they don’t believe in the Lincoln Memorial version of God – you know, big, tall, white guy on a chair with a beard. Hey, I don’t believe in that God either. But as a Jew I do believe in God. The disagreements over what God is are not inherent in God; these disagreements are merely human.
Simply stated, Jews believe that God IS. I like this. In fact, the Hebrew name for God comes from Hebrew verb “to be.”
Believing there is one God is also a reminder that none of us is God.
One additional thought while we are talking about God. We Jews realize that we are not the only monotheists. Thus, if God is big enough for many Jewish interpretations, God is certainly big enough for many religions to share. In the world we live in, it is so important that we do share, doing so without delegitimating or dehumanizing others or seeking to destroy those who are different.
We, as Jews, also believe that we have a special relationship with God. We understand that other religions and people have relationships with God. Again, this is not exclusive. However, we see this special relationship in all elements of our story. God creates a covenant with Abraham and Sarah. God solidifies this covenant with our people at Mount Sinai. All Jews, according to our story, were at Mt. Sinai. We are God’s chosen people. However, we as Jews have truly never seen this as a chauvinistic statement. For, inasmuch as God chose us, we chose God. A story that comes from the Rabbinic tradition has God shopping the Torah to all the peoples of the ancient world. God went to the Canaanites and said “do you want this Torah.” They asked “what is in it?” God said: “Thou shalt not steal.” “Hmmm,” said the Canaanites, “it sounds good, but we make our living as nomads and every so often we hold up a caravan. We cannot abide by this Torah.” And so on, and so on. Each time God spoke with another people, they found a reason not to choose the Torah. All, that is, except for the Israelites – our ancestors – who said sight-unseen “we’ll take it.”
Our tradition teaches that the Torah is a physical sign of God’s love. It is our wedding contract, our ketubah. We are inextricably linked to God. But, we also reserve the right to question and argue with God; to examine and even change our tradition. This isn’t something new. We’ve been doing this for thousands of years and one of the most important aspects of being Jewish is how we encourage inquiry, study, challenge, and debate.
We need these skills. We need to challenge God and each other because the stakes are so high. We are the chosen people, yet, remember what we have been chosen for. Our mission is nothing short of repairing the world, what we call Tikkun Olam in Hebrew. That is quite a mission. But it is central to what it means to be Jewish. And I like that.
There is a Yiddish folk saying: S'iz shver tsu zayn a Yid, It's tough to be a Jew. Some think that this refers to how we have been targets throughout our history. I beg to differ. We believe that our relationship with God requires us to be a light to the nations, responsible for things which are much bigger than our numerical representation worldwide might suggest. We know that we are God’s partner and that our actions and kindness make a tremendous impact on our neighbors and our world. If this is tough, so be it. We are Jews – with a capital J – and the big picture matters.
Finally, we Jews believe in hope. Central to who we are is that we can bring a time of peace, a Messianic era, a better tomorrow. If any people in history has a reason to be pessimists, it is us Jews. However, we are optimists. Whenever I talk about this Jewish belief, I refer back to my first trip to Israel. I was a high school student and Rabbi Guttman was my teacher. This was 24 years ago. We had learned about the history of the Jewish people, including the times that Jerualsem had been destroyed and our people exiled. We talked about how many Jewish people had stood on the outskirts of the city and hoped that it would one day see the return of its children, and the sounds of singing and dancing. So, the days of our trip in Israel were counting down and here we were sitting on the outskirts of the modern city of Jerusalem. Rabbi Guttman asked us to tell him what we could see. One student said “the gold dome mosque.” We could all see it. “Great,” said Rabbi Guttman. “What else do you see?’” Another student said: “I can’t actually see it, but I know that the Western Wall is there too.” Sure enough, we knew what this student was talking about and remembered our experiences there. Other students spoke, describing elements of the city in front of us. And then Rabbi Fred spoke and told us what he saw. “Cranes. Building cranes.” We could see them standing tall over the many buildings of the city. He then told us why these stood out for him. “A crane lets you know that there are more people moving into this city; more of our brothers and sisters coming home. Cranes,” he said, “are a sign of Jewish optimism and an answer to the despair that tells us we shouldn’t be here or that Israel is too dangerous.”
Moments later, we stood and began to sing a song together. The song that we sang was the Israeli national anthem – HaTikvah – which means “the hope.”
It is this hope which provides us the strength to continue, to live in a world where we live in a sacred relationship with a God who asks us to care and to give and be with others. It is this hope which also enables us to pray that indeed our world will and can be a better place. This is not only our hope and our belief, but also our challenge. May we live up to it – and may all this be God’s will.
AMEN
I ask you now to join me in a reading from tonight's worship handout:
I AM A JEW
(from Edmond Fleg’s "Why I Am a Jew," 1927)
I am a Jew because the faith of Israel demands no abdication of my mind.
I am a Jew because the faith of Israel asks every possible sacrifice of my soul.
I am a Jew because in all places where there are tears and suffering the Jew weeps.
I am a Jew because in every age when the cry of despair is heard the Jew hopes.
I am a Jew because the message of Israel is the most ancient and the most modern.
I am a Jew because Israel's promise is a universal promise.
I am a Jew because for Israel the world is not finished;
(we) will complete it.
I am a Jew because for Israel (humanity) is not yet fully created; (we) are creating (a more humane world).
I am a Jew because Israel places (the) unity (of all people) above nations and above Israel itself.
I am a Jew because above man – (the) image of the Divine unity - Israel places the unity which is Divine.
May this new Jewish year be filled with pride, growth, goodness, and blessing.
AMEN and SHANAH TOVAH |
