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“Reclaiming
Zionism”
Erev
Rosh Hashana 2007
This past
Spring, two publications were released that
challenge the meaning and value of “Zionism.” The first
was a paper by Steven M Cohen and Ari Kelman, well-known Jewish social
scientists. They reported that in a broad-based survey of American Jews,
82% regarded themselves as “pro-Israel” but only 28% thought
of themselves as “Zionists.” While we don’t have figures
from a generation ago, I suspect that for most us, in the 40 years since
1967, being “pro-Israel” also meant that we considered ourselves,
at least to some extent, “Zionists.”
In
1975, when the UN decided that Zionism was racism, our American
Jewish community vigorously defended Zionism and it’s declaration that
Israel is the spiritual, cultural, religious and historical home of Judaism.
In the years after 1975, I and many of my colleagues spent considerable
time telling both Jewish and non-Jewish groups that Zionism encompasses
a wide variety of religious and national philosophies. I think it’s
safe to say that by the 1990’s most of us who supported the State
of Israel and her right to a safe and secure existence, would have identified
ourselves as “Zionists.” So what has happened in the last
10 to 15 years?
The answer has to do
with a change in our historical perspective, and a change
in Mid East political reality. In years past, Zionism was justified
as a national liberation movement of the Jewish People,
especially after the Holocaust. In recent years, however, the
romance of ‘national liberation’ has paled, in part because
that is precisely the plaintive cry of the Palestinians, but also because
American Jews no longer identify with liberation movements. And if we
deserve the homeland because of “Jewish suffering”, can
we then discount the sufferings of the Palestinians these past forty
years?
Once,
the Western World viewed Middle East politics and policies
as white-hated “good
guys” in righteous and defensive battle against black-hated “bad
guys”-- but that day is gone. Right and wrong are not so clear anymore.
And increasingly American Jews identify “Zionism” with Israel’s
Right Wing, whose policies we question, and the Settler movement
whose theology we challenge.
The second publication this past
Spring that took many of us by surprise was a book
published by Avram Burg called Defeating
Hitler. Actually it was not the book itself that made the
news, but a long European review of it in early June,
which was then piece-meal repeated in the American-Jewish press.
The headlines from that review proclaimed that Burg
rejected the very notion of a Jewish state, saying that Israel
has lost its moral core, and has become a brutal regime sliding
toward totalitarianism. Serious charges!
Understand
that Avram Burg’s book is only printed in Hebrew, and folks like
you and me have little more than English translations of Hebrew reviews
with which to judge it. But for all his purported explosive statements,
it appears that Burg’s book is not as radical as the first reviewer
would have us believe.
Avram
Burg, former Knesset speaker, former chair of the World
Zionist Organization, and son of Yosef Burg, the longtime leader
of Israel’s National
Religious Party, first gained notoriety when in 1982 he helped lead a
soldier’s revolt against the first Lebanese War. More recently,
and prior to the publication of his book, he wrote a newspaper article
claiming that Israel’s ongoing occupation of the West Bank and Gaza
was undermining the moral foundations of Israel.
And
because we haven’t his newest book in English, we must rely on reviews
in translation to understand his criticism of Zionism and the State of
Israel. Burg does have harsh words for the state of Israel. He writes
that years of confrontation and fear have created a militaristic spirit
and widespread contempt for the human rights of Muslim Israelis. He contends
that the democratic and idealistic values of social harmony and universal
justice which brought immigrants to Palestine before 1948, and drew Jews
to Israel since then, have been eroded by Israel’s national priority
of protecting the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza. Strong words yes,
but I’m on his side.
The
breaking news review of Burg’s book accused him of abandoning Zionism
and rejecting Israel. So of course the review made international headlines!
In fact, Avram Burg has not “abandoned” Zionism nor “rejected” Israel.
He does say that we can no longer afford to understand Israel as a “Jewish
State”, that we need to begin thinking of it as a state of the Jewish
People. Calling it, and believing it to be a “Jewish State,” promotes
a single-minded, self-centered predisposition for a sectarian
morality that allows for the second-class status of Palestinians
(my words not his).
Burg
writes that in identifying Israel as a “Jewish state,” we
in effect say that the criteria by which the Nuremberg laws
identified us for destruction, are the same criteria set by the Law
of Return. Calling his book Defeating Hitler,
he means that we should not allow Hitler to define
Israel or its people, that Israel must rise above
chauvinism and exclusivism, to become not only
a just and ethical model of representative democracy in
the Middle East, but a nation of Jews that will enrich the
lives of all Jews, everywhere.
It is, in my opinion, a far-fetched
reach for him to connect the Nuremberg Laws and
the Law of Return, but I understand his point that because Israel
has defined itself by its exclusionist Jewish
character, it tacitly allowed
its society to be divided, not only as Israelis and Palestinians,
but also as Orthodox and non-Orthodox Jews. Burg says that
Zionism has become a divisive social philosophy, and thus its international
tarnished image.
Because we care about and support the State
of Israel, and because we want the next generation
of American Jews to continue that concern and support, we must
redefine what
we mean by Zionism, while
hoping that Israeli leadership will continue both its
pursuit of a just and equitable state for all its citizens, and its
support of a self-sustaining, non-belligerent Palestinian
state on its borders.
We cannot
effect or manage or control the policies and the priorities
of Israel. But we can promote
a healthy and helpful relationship with the State, a mutually beneficial relationship
of aid and assistance to our Jewish brothers and sisters there.
And by experiencing Israel personally, we can enhance our own
Jewish identities.
I
do not believe that without Israel we cannot
be authentic Jews, or cannot live authentic Jewish lives. Our
American Judaism does indeed sustain itself. What we have established
here is real and meaningful and fulfilling, and what we can take
from connecting-with-Israel, will only enhance who we are as
Jews, and how we understand and give expression to our Jewish
identity.
I
am a Zionist because the State of Israel helps
me to appreciate the breadth and depth of my Jewish identity. I
am a Zionist because I believe that a state of the Jews is good
for the Jews, and is good for the world.
I am a Zionist because
throughout Jewish history, the Land of Israel has been central
to the Jewish experience, because it embodies the concept of Jewish
peoplehood, and because I want that land and its people to have
a place in my life. And because I am a Zionist, I want us, this Temple Emanu-El
congregational family, to feel more connected
to that land, to that history, and to that people.
And in this year of the 60th Anniversary
of the establishment of the State of Israel,
we have created a number of opportunities for
us to celebrate and connect with
Eretz Yisrael/the
Land of Israel, M’dinat Yisrael/the
State of Israel and Am Yisrael/the
People of Israel.
In the Directory of
Opportunities, on page 42 is a description
of a wonderful project at Kibbutz Yahel, a Reform
kibbutz north of Eilat in the Negev. JNF is partnering
with Yahel to build a park at the entrance of the
kibbutz, a rest and refreshment “oasis” for
travelers on the main north/south route through the Negev. The
Reform synagogues of metro-Detroit have pledged our combined
support for the project, and our gifts to Yahel/JNF can make
a real difference to the future of our kibbutz. Please look carefully at
the information in the Directory of Opportunities, and help our Reform kibbutz
through the JNF however you can.
In
next month’s October Bulletin, my message will be
devoted to ARZA, the Association of Reform Zionists of
America. ARZA’s mission is
to connect Reform Jews in America with the State
of Israel and with the Israeli Reform Jewish community.
ARZA is the voice of the Reform Movement as we champion
activities that push Israel to be a pluralistic, just
and democratic Jewish state. I am a lifetime member of
ARZA, and as you’ll
read in your next Bulletin, I’m hoping to bring
many of you into membership as well.
Because
this is Israel’s 60th, we are developing
special programming in our Religious School
and with our adult Community of Learners. Of special
note is a project for some of our 5th graders
who will join with 5th graders in the Galilee
for a year-long program exchange, a project
which Marcia Leibson developed with the principal of
the school in Nazaret Ilit.
We will bring to our
adults, to our Monday night high school, Hebrew School,
and Sunday morning students, a number of creative and innovative
opportunities to connect to the history and the people of
Israel. We’ll have a film series of my three favorite
Israel films, a Shabbat afternoon study session/travelogue
with Michael Leibson and me, and our Spring Scholar is a Reform activist in Israel—all
of these are described in the Holiday Directory
of Opportunities you received this evening. And they’ll be more opportunities,
as our committees complete their planning.
Next summer we will
be participating in the Federation’s Teen Mission
to Israel. I would like nothing better than to take
20 or 30 of our high school students with me as we walk
the ground of our history. I’ll be inviting
them more directly during Monday Night School. And
of course I will be leading a Temple Emanu-El
two-week adult trip to Israel in April.
We will arrive just as the
excitement in Israel builds
for its 60th birthday.
There are still openings on our bus, and
I am happy to send you information on costs and a
full itinerary. I promise you that it will
be a trip of a lifetime, and for those not quite sure—I’m
happy to give you a list our participants from ’05,
who will happily and excitedly tell you all about it!
I
expect that our Jewish community will
be doing a lot for this special year in Israel’s history.
I already know that there will be a variety of programs
offered by various Jewish institutions. Please take advantage
of these opportunities for learning, enrichment and entertainment.
And I’m hoping that some of the programs
will focus us and challenge us to explore the
many and varied meanings of “Zionism”. I was
really surprised when I read last Spring that only 28%
of American Jews think of themselves as “Zionists.” It
seems that we have indeed “lost that lovin’ feeling,” that
our romance with the pioneer-farmers who built
the kibbutzim has all but disappeared into the recesses
of pre-1948 history; and that the excited and enthusiastic
rush that followed the ’67 Six Day War, has
evaporated after 40 years of occupation.
But
the historical and political and emotional
connections that tie us to the Land of Israel and its people
and its struggle, are still very strong and vibrant and real.
Though tempered by a generation of conflict, our commitment to
the future of the Jewish State and its people is secure, as is
our confidence that Israel will find a way to secure a lasting
peace with her neighbors. That expectation too, is a Zionist
hope.
There
is, I think, something of substance
to Avram Burg’s claim that Zionism
has lost its directional bearings. And it’s a message he’s
been preaching for at least four years. In the summer of 2003, Avram Burg
wrote in an op-ed piece: “The Zionist revolution has always rested
on two pillars: a just path and an ethical leadership.” I agree
that we’ve lost that path and that leadership. Burg said then, that
what Israel’s leadership ought to proclaim this: “We love
the entire land of our forefathers and in some other time we
would have wanted to live here alone. But that will not happen.
The Arabs, too, have dreams and needs.”
So I
agree with Avram Burg, that it
will only be when Israel and Palestine work out a recognized
and secure international border, with a shared capital in Jerusalem,
that Zionism can again be a revolutionary philosophy that promotes
justice and equity for all who
inhabit the land that God gave us.
L'shana
tova
Rabbi Joseph
P. Klein [rabbi@rabbiklein.com]
Temple Emanu-El
14450 W 10 Mile Rd.
Oak Park MI 48237
248-967-4020; fax 248-967-4284
www.emanuel-mich.org
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"A
New Atheism"
Rosh
Hashana 2007
This
past year I’ve been
fascinated by a growing interest in what’s been called “A
New Atheism.” I
find it remarkable that from apparently nowhere have
come five national bestselling books, whose authors now regularly
write opinion essays in newspapers and magazines, and appear
in television interviews. They are ‘rebels with a cause’,
as they attack both religions specifically, and our religious
culture generally. I’m referring to Christopher Hitchens: God
is Not Great, Sam Harris: Letter to a Christian Nation, and The
End of Faith, Richard Dawkins: The God Delusion, and
Daniel Dennett: Breaking the Spell.
What all
five of these books share is that they are blunt, no-holds-barred,
and angry attacks on religion, faith and belief. And I find it
remarkable that they have become mainstream reading and best-sellers.
One is tempted to say that this is a cultural correction to evangelical,
right-wing Christianity that has for a generation claimed to
speak for America. And indeed, the authors of these books say that their
success shows that America is finally fed up with the consequences
of believing in God. But I’m not so sure
that we can judge the national mood from the New York Times Bestseller
list.
A Newsweek poll last
Spring claimed that 91% of Americans believe in God. Though that number is certainly
exaggerated, I think it’s
safe to say that three-quarters of us do, and every survey shows
that Americans identify themselves as “religious” in
percentages far higher than most countries. So if it’s fair
to say that most of us are on “God’s
side”, how do we explain the popularity of these books which are,
as one reviewer said, “devoted, with sledgehammer force and angry
urgency, to breaking the spell of religion.”? [Ronald Aronson, The
Nation]
I read two of these books
this summer—God is Not
Great,
and Letter to a Christian Nation, and what I found most
interesting was the brash self-confidence and angry intellectual
bite of Hitchens and Harris. Hitchens spends most of his book cataloguing
the crimes and absurdities of Judaism, Christianity and
Islam. Harris is so certain of his truth, that he unilaterally declares
any faith in God as “stupid.” It
seemed to me that because they are so angry
and perturbed by our gullible and naïve culture, they read less like intellectual
scholars, and more like comic caricatures of critical thinkers.
But my primary pobjection is that both of them see all religion, faith and
belief as look-alike versions of a monolithic fundamentalist faith. They
certainly don’t
understand liberal religion in general, or Judaism in particular.
This morning we read from Genesis the story called “The
Binding of Isaac.” Apparently Christopher Hitchens, in God is Not Great,
How Religion Poisons Everything is unaware that we have for
generations challenged and argued with this text. He
writes as if his outrage is somehow revelatory. He doesn’t know that critically thinking Jews
have long found it singularly upsetting. Hitchens says: “The connection
between religious faith and mental disorder is . . . very obvious and
highly unmentionable. If someone murders his children and then says that
god ordered him to do it. . . or announces himself to be god's anointed,
and begins stockpiling Kool-Aid and weapons and helping himself to the wives
and daughters of his acolytes, we [at least] raise a skeptical eyebrow.
But if these [very] things can be preached under the protection of an established
religion, we are expected to take them at face value. All three monotheisms… praise
Abraham for being willing to hear voices and then to take his son
Isaac for a long and rather mad and gloomy walk. And then the caprice
by which his murderous hand is finally stayed, is written down as divine
mercy. [p. 53]”
I don’t appreciate the smug and self-satisfied
sarcasm with which this book and the others are written. It bespeaks an
arrogant intellectual superiority that out-of-hand belittles believers,
and can’t imagine
that you or I are able to look critically at religious traditions
or Biblical texts. Hitchens, for instance writes as if his clarity is revolutionary: “Thus
the mildest criticism of religion is also the [most] radical and … devastating
one. Religion is man-made. [10]”
Radical?, Devastating?—hardly. He goes on to speak of the absurdity of a man-made religion whose believers
claim “Not just to know that
god exists, [to know] that he created and supervised the whole
enterprise, but also to know what ‘he’ demands of us—from
our diet to our observances to our sexual morality. . . Such stupidity,
combined with such pride, should be enough on its own to exclude belief
from the debate.” [10]
I suppose Hitchens has some excuse in that
he’s not Jewish! Because
were he to understand Judaism and Jewish theology, he would appreciate
that we’ve always said that we can never “know God”, that
we can’t even intellectually grasp or linguistically pronounce the
name of God, much less “know” anything about who or what is
God. The rabbis of 2000 years ago were quick to dismiss the anthropomorphical
attributes of God described in Scripture. Though the text ‘said’ God
has hands and feet and eyes and ears—not really. God who is “he” and
God who walks and speaks, is only for the benefit of the human
reader who needs that description. The rabbis said that since God is Infinite,
the finite human mind can never grasp, understand or appreciate “The
Infinite One” because it is by definition beyond our mortal capacity
and capability. They wrote that God placed in our hands at Sinai the necessary
tools and instruction for us, on our own, to follow the right path,
to do the right thing. Ever since Sinai it has been our responsibility
to make sense of that instruction, to create for ourselves a systematic
construct within which we may find meaning and value as Jews in covenant
with God.
To Hitchens’ charge that “the mildest criticism of
religion is also the [most] radical and … devastating one-- religion
is man-made,” We
respond: Of course it is! We have created and continue to fashion
the artificial rubric of rite and ritual of “Judaism” that gives
us substance and structure as Jews. Anything that we say or do or believe
or think about the Infinite God is necessarily the product of our finite
humanity. Like Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s metaphor of standing,
rooted on the shore of the “known,” we can only gaze out toward
the immense expanse of the infinite, forever beyond our reach. We know that
that ineffable reality exists, even though from our place on the shore,
it cannot be weighed or measured, known or understood. “Between the
two,” he wrote, “we
set up a system of references, but we can never bridge the gap.
They are as far and as close to each other as calendar and time, as violin
and melody.”
We
affirm the truth of the rubric we call Judaism
because it speaks to us, because it helps bring order and value
and meaning to a disordered and increasingly chaotic world. We light candles and sing
the blessing on Friday nights not because God told us to, not because
God gave us those words and that melody – but
because we’ve decided that
lighting the candles separates the week from
the Sabbath, separates us from a non-Jewish
and increasingly secular community, and reminds us that
rest and refreshment of soul are crucial to our personal
health and well-being. And in saying or singing the
blessing that of course was written by the rabbis (!),
we are intimately and immediately connected to hundreds
of generations past and generations future of Jewish
families who have sung or recited, and are singing
and reciting, those very same words.
Our Jewish
Heritage is in every way our response to
an ineffable, infinite God that enters our awareness only
occasionally with an insistent confirming
presence. At those transitory and transcendent moments of connection,
I “know” that
I am part of something far bigger than me and mine. And in wanting
a communal and personal expression, that best affords me a tangible connection
to the infinite, I choose Reform Judaism as my “system of references” as
Heschel called it, because Reform Judaism best meets and satisfies
my needs and beliefs.
Hitchens and Harris declare that the great
and fatal flaw of religions is that since
they are man-made, no one religion is better, or truer than any other.
Precisely, I would tell them, and properly so-- for each of us needs to
find and celebrate our own meaningful path to the infinite God. And I
am not so self-assuredly confident (or religiously arrogant) as to think
that there is only one covenant path to an Infinite God.
Both Hitchens
and Harris castigate religions as being the source of violence,
hate and war. Hitchens writes “It was never
that difficult to see that religion was the cause of hatred and conflict,
that its maintenance depended on ignorance and superstition. [p. 255]” While
it is certainly true that religious wars and warriors are particularly dangerous
because they are not only defending God, but their own eternal souls— that
doesn’t at all mean that religion is the first-cause of hate, war,
and violence. And these authors completely dismiss the prophetic
imperative of social justice, so inherently significant to our western religions.
And as Reform Jews, who so strongly define our religious identity by “doing
justice, loving mercy and walking humbly with God”, this generic tar-and-feathering
of faith is offensive and insulting.
But what I found really upsetting
is that Hitchens and Harris declare
that faith and belief are dangerous to children and other living
things. Harris writes: “One of the enduring
pathologies of human culture is the tendency to raise children to fear and
demonize other human beings on the basis of religious faith. [p. 80]” And
Hitchens says: “How
can we ever know how many children had their psychological and
physical lives irreparably maimed by the compulsory inculcation of faith?
[p. 217]” Religion,
they say, teaches vulnerable children to accept everything inside
the faith without question, to and distrust, even fear, everyone
and everything outside it.
For Hitchens and Harris, Dawkins and
Dennett—all
religions apparently look alike and sound alike. There appears
to be no distinction in their minds between fundamental faiths which declare
that they alone speak truth and know God, and communities like ours, which
pushes its members to challenge both the traditional texts and the modern
context of our Jewish Heritage. To declare that we do our children grave
and debilitating harm by indoctrinating them into our faith, is to completely
ignore everything that we are and we do.
Our children leave their religious
school education not only with
a healthy respect for their traditions, rites and rituals, but
also with the expectation that we want them to challenge what we say
and what we do. If our education programs, from Religious School through EMES, do
anything – they encourage
children and adults to take very seriously their responsibility
to find and affirm truth for themselves. And though we promote and explore
the wealth and richness of our own Jewish history and heritage, we are clear
in declaring that there must be many paths to God. For if God is Infinite—there
can be no single, finite and exclusive “way” into that covenant.
These books are overbearing in their sarcasm and
unrelenting as they beat up and batter faith and belief. And in reading
their books, I want only to tell these guys that what they think religion
certainly is and always must be, is not at all what lives and grows and
blossoms in this synagogue and among our families. On mornings like this,
when it is abundantly clear that there is value and meaning and worth
in the rites and rituals of our religious community, I am saddened that
Hitchens and Harris and the others are so enmeshed in their own mishigas
that they are utterly unable to see the power and promise of religion,
faith and belief.
Shana tova
Rabbi
Joseph P. Klein
Temple Emanu-El
14450 West Ten Mile Road
Oak Park, MI 48237
248-967-4020 phone
248-967-4284 fax
rabbi@rabbiklein.com
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Paratactic Creation"
Rosh
Hashanah II 2007
Our Torah reading for this second day of Rosh Hashana is not
traditional. It is only our Reform machzor, Gates of Repentance,
that
has decided that we will read the first chapter of Genesis on the
second
day of the year! It is, nevertheless, an obvious choice!
Our Jewish calendar declares this to be the new year
of 5768.
Calculating back through Scripture, rabbinic tradition determined that
5,768 years ago Wednesday evening, God said "y'hee or-There will be
light". This then is the anniversary of creation, the birthday of the
world. What better reading from Torah could there be, but chapter one of
Genesis?!
Though asked rhetorically, it does raise a real question!
For if
it is appropriate to read about the creation story of Genesis chapter
One, then it is also appropriate to read the contradictory and competing
creation story of Genesis chapter Two! It used to be, way back when
religious school teachers really didn't want us to ask too many
questions, that we were taught that the second creation story
overlapped, and further explained the first. They were not 'competing'
you see, just another view, another version, another rendition of the
same creation. Had we really looked at the two stories, we would have
certainly concluded that with Genesis One and Genesis Two we have
contradictory and clearly incompatible stories! What our teachers didn't
want to deal with, was the obvious problem that since they both can't be
true, one must be false-but how can there be a false story in Torah?!
Today, we're not going to resolve the conflict. We
have only one
of the versions before us, and as far as this morning is concerned,
that's all there is! But this is a new year, and you have plenty of time
to read the other story and make your own comparisons-you have a year to
work on it. The question you will have to ask yourself is this: why does
Torah present us, particularly present us at its own beginning, with two
parallel and contradictory accounts of the same story, laid out in a
dynamic sequence that forces upon us this textual confrontation?!
I would call chapter one of
Genesis the "Paratactic
Creation".
It means to 'move in a series, one thing or idea after another.' The
famous line from Julius Caesar, the only Latin we know: veni, vidi,
victi -- I came, I saw, I conquered" is a paratactic phrase. And now you
can use "paratactic" in casual conversations, guaranteed to impress
everyone. Chapter One of Genesis describes a paratactic creation. It is
beautifully choreographed as a cosmic dance. There is a rhythm and rhyme
to the repeated pattern and flow of images. Each day begins with the
world-forming Divine declaration: "And God said...", and then, each day
ends with the formal refrain "it was evening and it was morning." This
paratactic creation emphasizes an orderly sequence from a Divine
perspective: we see things over the shoulder of God (as it were), as God
calls into being the elements of our universe.
The orderliness of chapter one is both stylistic and conceptual:
creation advances through a series of balanced pairings, which in most
instances are binary oppositions. What am I talking about?!? God builds
by making opposites! God creates light in opposition to darkness,
separates the waters above from the waters below, splits off the realm
of earth from the realm of sea, sets luminaries to shine from above,
onto the earth below, commanding birds to fly under the surface of the
sky as the fish swim under the surface of the water.
Moving from one day to another we find dark and light, night and day,
evening and morning, water and dry land, sun and moon, grass and trees,
birds and fish, beast of the field and creeping thing of the ground, and
finally human 'he' and human 'she'. Each of these are balancing
opposites, producing different expressions in a given category of
creation.
Even the six days themselves reflect this stylistic
and
conceptual pairing: the first three days are matched with the last three
days! The origin of light on the first day parallels the appearance of
the heavenly lights on the fourth day; the separation of cosmic waters
on the second day forming sea and sky parallels the creation of the sea
creatures and the sky creatures on the fifth day; the appearance of the
earth and vegetation on the third day parallels the origins of animals
and humanity on the sixth day. One and four; two and five; three and
six. From one to the other, we move in pairs, finally arriving at the
seventh day- for which is there is no pair, no equal or opposite. There
the parallelism, and repeated commands and comments are finally focused
into four verses which not only wrap it all up with a triple repetition,
but carry us back to the very beginning by using certain key words: "And
God completed on the seventh day the work which God made. And God ceased
on the seventh day from all the work which God had made. And God blessed
the seventh day and hallowed it, for on it God had ceased from all the
work which 'God created' to make." [Genesis 2:2-3]
This chapter is more than a grand paratactic progression, for the end
returns us exactly to where we started. "B'reshit bara elohim, In the
beginning God created..." leads us to a repeat of the words bara elohim,
"God created" with which God concludes Creation. This completed
narrative thus stands with a singular unity within the theology it
declares: God is order, and thus 'coherence' is the keynote of creation.
Everything comes into being in orderly progression, measured in a
numerically sequenced plan. The blueprint for the six days becomes the
pattern for all life thereafter-this is the model of what we've come to
call natural law. The underlying characteristic of the universe is a
directed natural law that points to a divine harmony. From its opening
words to its closing phrase we are told that this is a moral, orderly
and regulated world, one in which we are only the concluding element.
And then surprisingly, we move into chapter two which directly and
completely contradicts God's presence as ultimate organizer and
supervisor. Chapter two posits a caring but disorganized
deity, an
amorphous creation, and the primary centrality not of the universal
Divine Plan, but of pleasing a single human person.
We are left to struggle with the challenge of this contradictory
introduction to Torah, which forces us to ask: Who are we in relation to
God and to God's Creation? Is there a plan to Life and Living, or must
we manage as best we can? Is God the distant, transcendent architect who
orders the present and planned the future as described in chapter 1, or
is God the God of chapter 2-- a more immanent, immediate presence who
struggles with us, and for us, as we meet the uncertain challenges of
daily living? And aren't these questions the very issues we're supposed
to confront on these great Days of Awe?
Shana tova
Rabbi
Joseph P. Klein
Temple Emanu-El
14450 West Ten Mile Road
Oak Park, MI 48237
248-967-4020 phone
248-967-4284 fax
rabbi@rabbiklein.com
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"With
What Gift Will You Be Remembered?"
Erev Yom Kippur 2007
In the summer of 1973 Barb
and I were in the heart of Mississippi,
working at the Southeast Regional Reform summer camp. A Rabbinic student then,
I was the camp program director and Barb ran the office. I
remember vividly the opening day of the first session: as cars would
drive in through the gates, the backseat doors would burst open with
eager and excited new campers-some anxiously looking for old friends,
others a bit overwhelmed by so much activity. My job was to welcome each
car, introduce myself as the Program Director, and direct them to
parking and registration.
As I finished instructing one parent, their little
boy, probably
eight or nine years old, slipped out of the car and walked up to me
saying, with a thick southern drawl "Excuse me sir-are all of these
folks Jews?" I told him yes. "All o'them?" he asked, pointing to a
hundred or so milling parents and campers and counselors. "All of them"
I told him. "I can't believe it", he whispered to me, "I've never seen
so many Jews, all in one place."
A few weeks into camp one of our counselors came to
me with a
request. In her cabin of 14 year olds, one girl from a small town in
Tennessee has expressed her regret at not becoming Bat Mitzvah. There
was no synagogue in her town, the nearest was Knoxville a couple hours
away, and her family only went there for the High Holidays. She was a
third year camper and heard about her campmates Bat Mitzvah services.
The counselor wanted to know if we could Bat Mitzvah her here
at
camp-she'd be staying through second session, so we had six weeks to
prepare.
I met with her every day during rest hour after lunch.
We
started with the Aleph-Bet, and were soon working directly on reading
the Hebrew of the portion for the last Shabbat in camp. And on that
morning she did beautifully. All of us were very proud of her. It was a
wonderful way for the camp to celebrate its last Shabbat.
Twenty-two years later, in November of
1995 I was attending the
National Biennial of our (then) UAHC which was meeting in Atlanta. I am
always impressed by these national biennials that bring thousands of
Reform Jews together for a long weekend of speakers, classes and
congregational discussions. And I remember specifically, at that Atlanta
Convention, with well over 3000 participants, how amazing it was, that
there were all these Reform Jews in one place, and I recalled the wonder
and the wide eyes of that camper arriving at our Mississippi camp.
And that very afternoon, a woman came
up to me, and promptly
introduced herself. She was that 14 year old Bat Mitzvah student at
camp, 22 years later. Now grown, married with children, elected to the
board of her Atlanta congregation-she was a delegate at the Biennial.
She had been looking for me, assuming that I would be attending the
National Biennial. She told me that the summer of her Bat Mitzvah had
changed her Jewish life. From a marginally and quietly Jewish, little
girl from Bristol Tennessee-here she was, a representative of her
congregation at the national convention of the Reform Movement. She said
that she'd been waiting to thank me for changing her Jewish life. So
excited, she wanted her husband and kids to meet me, and was hoping that we could
get together on Sunday before the biennial ended. We never did meet up and we've
not spoken since. One never knows what little thing, what small gift of time
or effort, will change a life. And had she not
found me in Atlanta, I would not have known what I had given her.
A few years ago a married couple came to temple for Friday services,
but didn't enter the building. Neither one of them was Jewish,
but they
believed that Judaism was what they wanted for themselves. Not knowing,
and somewhat fearful, of what these Jews would say to strangers, they
sat in their car, debated whether or not to go in, and eventually drove
off. They were back the next Friday night, and again sat in their car
watching folks go into the building, and they compounded their distress
as they went back and forth: 'what if we do something wrong?', but 'what
have we got to lose?', but 'what if we embarrass ourselves?' And again
they drove away. The third week, they told themselves that this was
silly. What could the Jews inside do or say that was worse than what
they were doing to themselves? So they entered the building and walked
into the sanctuary.
Telling me their story, weeks later, they said that
in an
instant, their fears vanished when they were met by two ushers in
the
sanctuary. With smiles they were welcomed and given a service bulletin.
They told the ushers "this is our first time." "Then we're especially
happy to have you with us", the usher said, and added "if we can
help
with questions or anything else, we'll be right here."
A year later the couple joined Temple Emanu-El on
the day of
their conversions, and have since then, they have personally welcomed
and made comfortable anyone who comes into their congregation as a
stranger. The ushers that Friday night will never know the
magnitude of the impact they had on that young man and woman, or the generational
consequences of their five second smiling welcome.
Often, you never know and certainly do not plan, on changing or
transforming lives. But sometimes that is exactly what we intend
to do.
When our Lech Lecha Endowment Fund first started, we told ourselves that
it was vitally important to establish a self-sustaining flow of
endowment income. The tireless efforts of a few relentless leaders has
built our Lech Lecha Endowment into a million dollar fund that will put
perhaps $50,000 into this year's budget. Those of us who pledged and
gave to Lech Lecha have ensured a lasting legacy that will continue to
sustain our congregation long after we are gone. With what gift will you
be remembered here?
On Yom Kippur specifically, but throughout these ten days, our tradition
and our prayerbook call for us to reflect and consider our actions of the year
just past. I would put a different challenge to you tonight. Instead
of looking back, regretting what you did and who you were- look ahead and ask
yourself 'what will be my legacy? For what will I be remembered in my congregation?'
We do not know, and we cannot know, the
small but deeply
meaningful ways we impact others. How many of our Friday night
or
Saturday morning ushers are responsible for first-time visitors becoming
long-time members? How many of our Hebrew School teachers lit an
"ah-hah" moment in the mind of a student so that letters-and-vowels-together
made sense? How many of you, in merely smiling and saying hello to a stranger
in the sanctuary, or showing what page we were on, changed forever that person's
mind about Jews or Judaism? We do not know and we cannot know the small things
that are very big things! The truth is that every time you enter this building
is a gift opportunity.
Some of us are fortunate enough to know that we make
a
difference in the lives of our families and members and students. I am
privileged every May to bless our High School graduates and to hear from
them how much Temple Emanu-El has meant to them, has affected and
changed them and shaped their Jewish identity. I'm lucky in that I am
there with our kids as they enter our school at Consecration, on the
bima for Bar/Bat Mitzvah, in class and on the streets of New York with
our Confirmation students. In fact, last spring our Confirmation Class
was my first Consecration Class ten years before, and though I know
their parents were proud of them as they led their service, for me
it
was wonderful beyond words. And though the rabbi is
unique in who he is and what he does in the congregation-- you too
can have direct and
lasting impact on our children and adults and families.
Next Fall, a year from now, the new cantor
that blesses our
Consecration Class, will later prepare them for B'nai Mitzvah, and
sing
with them at Confirmation, and bless them at Graduation. The next
generation of Temple Emanu-El cantorial leadership begins with your
sustaining gift to the Norman Rose Memorial Cantor Fund. You may not be
able to endow a permanent program at temple, not all of you are able to
lead or direct our congregation on the Board of Trustees. Only a few
will become TEMTY or Brotherhood or Temple President-but your gifts
of
interest and energy and involvement make things happen and do make a difference. What
will your legacy be? How will you be remembered?
Of course, the prior question is 'how do you understand your
relationship to the congregation?' For some we are a "service
center",
providing for their immediate Jewish needs of religious school and b'nai
mitzvah. And for them, when they no longer want or require what we
provide, they will leave the congregation because there's no reason to
pay for services they won't use.
Some of our folks
think of their membership as a religious insurance policy. Even
though they no longer need us for our school or for regular worship, they will
one day want clergy for weddings, and funerals. I think of both these kinds of
relationships as "contract memberships", a
very clearly defined business-type association for which there is an expected
quid pro quo of fees paid and services rendered.
And I'm not disparaging these "contract
memberships." It's the
way things are, it brings families into the congregation, and they keep
us going. I would hope however, that yours would be a "covenant
membership." And there are plenty of models out there to emulate.
Families first join the Detroit Zoo or the D.I.A. for example, because
they want to take their children there, because the zoo or the museum is
a valuable family educational experience. And sooner than later, they
realize that these institutions deserve our support because they are
important beyond their own family needs or even participation. They are
worthy of our ongoing support because of what they provide for the
greater community, because they are cultural imperatives that ought to
be protected now and into the future.
And if animals and art are important, entities that
are outside
the immediacy of my self and soul, then how much more important is
the
institution that nourishes and sustains my personal Jewish identity,
that protects and preserves Judaism and my Jewish community? I've
quoted before this statement from Rabbi Alexander
Schindler "The synagogue is where Jews are made, where the individual soul and
the community are joined. . . All other institutions in Jewish life are created
by Jews. Only the synagogue creates Jews, child by child, family
by family." [UAHC Biennial 1991]
We are here today because 50 years ago, young Jewish families recognized the
necessity of establishing and insuring a Reform synagogue presence in southeast
Oakland County. Necessary and important for them, and for the generations that
came after them. I am quite sure that they were aware that by their gift they
would be remembered, that theirs was a
legacy with a life of its own. What will you leave as a legacy to your
congregation?
Tonight our tradition and our worship call upon us
to reflect
and consider who we were and how we lived this past year. I challenge
you to enter Yom Kippur with just the opposite mindset. Instead of
looking back on what might have been, what could have been- look ahead and ask
yourself 'what will be my legacy? For
what gift
will I be remembered in my congregation?'
Shana tova
JP
Klein
Rabbi
Joseph P. Klein
Temple Emanu-El
14450 West Ten Mile Road
Oak Park, MI 48237
248-967-4020 phone
248-967-4284 fax
rabbi@rabbiklein.com
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*************************
"Interfaith
Surprises"
Yom Kippur 2007
Last year on this Yom Kippur
morning I told you I would no longer be a partner in Muslim-Jewish
dialogue. I had become frustrated by what I found to be less-than
honest and forthright discussions with Muslim
clergy. And that hasn't changed. I've
thought a lot about Jewish/Muslim
dialogue, trying to put my finger on what exactly troubles me. And while
our obvious and opposing positions on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict
presents a major discussion obstacle, there are I think two foundational
problems beyond the political: one is theological and the other
attitudinal.
As a faith-covenant, Islam, proclaims with a self-righteous sanctity
that it is the last and best revelation of God. Islam transcends and
encompasses and completes the faiths of Judaism and Christianity. It
identifies itself as the final expression of God's historical message to
humanity, and thus claims for itself the right to judge how
well the
prior faiths of Judaism and Christianity fulfill their covenants with
God. Theirs is a triumphant theology, a supersedant revelation. (It
is,
by the way, the same problem I have with fundamental churches which
claim the "New Covenant" brought by Jesus, sealed with his death and
proclaimed with his resurrection, has superseded/replaced the "Old
Covenant" from Moses.)
Whenever Muslims speak of their regard for Jews and Judaism, they always
say: "We honor and revere Abraham and Moses and all your prophets,
because it's all part of Islam-so there's no disagreement." But there is
"disagreement"! If Judaism (and Christianity) receives its final
expression within Islam, then we no longer decide and determine what
Judaism means. I have invited, both personally and publicly, Muslim
clergy to affirm the following statement:
The covenant between God and Israel, ascribed
to Moses
and interpreted through the ages by Jewish communities, is a unique and
authentic expression of faith in God, standing apart from and equal to,
the unique and authentic expressions of Christianity and Islam. Additionally,
this covenant, originating in Hebrew Scripture and
developed within Rabbinic literature, can only be expressed by, and
expanded from within, the Jewish community. To date, no Muslim clergy has
affirmed the statement, or even responded.
My second reason for refusing dialogue is that the Muslim
community does not really want to accept the reality that there is a
radical and
violent Islam out there that needs to be dealt with. Whenever
challenged to explain the terrorism of Al Qaeda and other groups- Muslim
response always is "Oh, that's not real Islam". So in dismissing
Muslim
terrorism as not Muslim-they're done with it, they don't have to deal
with it in any substantive way, it's not their problem!
But it is their problem, and we have to say that loudly and publicly.
When Baruch Goldstein in 1994 killed 29 Arabs who were praying at
Abraham's tomb in Hebron, and the Jewish world denounced that terrorist
act, we never said "that's not Judaism." We recognized
that there is a
dangerously radical fringe element within our community which must be
monitored and constrained. We explained to Jews and non-Jews how a
radical fundamental Judaism can and does promote such violence, and we
united against those fringe groups, and worked hard to keep more Jews
from turning to the "dark side." And while we distanced ourselves, and
our philosophy and theology, from Meir Kahane and others, we always
acknowledged that this was a Jewish problem that we needed to control.
The American Muslim community does not and will not, accept or explain
the apparent predisposition to violence of Muslims throughout the world.
When Muslim clergy accept the inherent authenticity of Judaism,
and take ownership of the radical Islam in their midst, then I will engage
them in dialogue.
There have been no surprises in what "hasn't" been happening in my
Jewish/Muslim interfaith world, but there have been some significant
surprises in my Jewish/Christian relationships. For over
thirty years
now I have developed a number of very close personal and professional
friendships with mainline Protestant and Catholic clergy. These
more
liberal and less fundamental churches have always been our closest
friends, our most cooperative and supportive and collaborative national
allies. That has been changing (for the worse) in recent
years. You may remember the 2004 resolution at the national Presbyterian
General Assembly that asked the movement to divest from Israeli companies
or any corporation supplying its military-- even American tractor companies,
because those tractors were used in the building the security fence and
other "military" operations which victimized Palestinians in the West Bank
and Gaza. Our national Reform leadership quickly responded, and last year
the Presbyterian General Assembly issued a statement that acknowledged
that their 2004 action "caused hurt and misunderstanding among many members
of the Jewish community and within our Presbyterian communion." The
statement further expressed grief over the pain that action caused and
accepted responsibility for the flaws in their process, and it asked for "a
new season of mutual understanding and dialogue."
With one inter-faith obstacle resolved, another has popped
up--this time with the United Methodist Church, another longtime ally and
friend of our Jewish community. After three years of studying the
conflict between Israelis and Palestinians, the General Board
of Global
Methodist Ministries has just published a 220-page report written by Reverend
Stephen Goldstein. (Yes, you heard right!). The report is one anti-Israel
bias after another. There is a section called "Jewish
Religious Fundamentalism and the Place of Religion in Judaism and
Israeli Society" which describes the negative effects of "Jewish
Religious Fundamentalism". Yet there is no comparable section addressing
the reality of Muslim religious fundamentalism - let alone the
relationship of radical Islam to terrorism.
The report invites us to download photos from its
national
website: photos of Israeli soldiers, tanks, the security "wall," and two
Jewish men (settlers probably) sitting in a field with machine guns. But
the photos of Palestinians feature hugging children, a woman sewing and
men smiling. Completely absent from the website are photos showing the
effects of Palestinian terrorist bombings on Israeli civilians. The
message is clear.
The General Board of Global Methodist
Ministries declares that
Israel and Zionism are at fault for the ongoing conflict. It
describes
Israeli society as one suffused with hostility. Quoting from the report:
"To this day there is a latent hysteria in Israeli life that springs
directly from [the Holocaust]. It explains the paranoiac sense of
isolation that has been a main characteristic of the Israeli temper
since 1948.... And it has been the single most significant factor in
Israel's unwillingness to trust their Arab neighbors or the
Palestinians.... Since 1948 the Holocaust and the fear of antisemitism
have also created a consciousness that has contributed significantly to
preventing Israel from making peace with its Arab neighbors." The
report
holds Israel alone responsible for the Palestinians' circumstances,
while Palestinians are presented only as victims.
But what's most fascinating is found in the study guide's opening pages,
where the author of the report, Rev. Stephen Goldstein, includes his own
personal history. Goldstein was raised a Jew in Brooklyn and New Jersey.
He proudly speaks of managing to get himself expelled from Hebrew school,
and walking away from his bar mitzvah. He describes himself
in high school as "attempting to deny being Jewish. If I were an adult,
I would have been labeled a self-hating Jew."
That this important mainline Protestant denomination is promoting a
distorted and historically inaccurate report reopens the wound of
troubling Jewish/Christian relations. I'm astounded that the
national
Methodist leadership allowed this guy's obviously personal agenda and anti-Jewish
bias to frame a report published in its name.
And while the Israeli/Palestinian conflict is making Jewish dialogue
difficult with mainline, liberal Protestant churches, it has had just
the opposite effect, at least for me personally, with Jewish/Evangelical
relationships. One of the great interfaith surprises of this
last year
has been the increasingly comfortable relationship I've developed with
the minister of a Berkley fundamental, evangelical Baptist church.
While we've been friends for ten years, the recent
public
proclamations from Christians United for Israel prompted us speak
seriously about Jewish/Evangelical dialogue vis a vis Israel. I've both
spoken and written about my misgivings about standing with Evangelical
Christians in support of Israel. While I thank them kindly for their
support, and wish them well because they wish Israel well, such support
comes with worrisome theological and political footnotes. Israel
is
important to Evangelicals because in the End of Days a strong Israel
will be defeated by the forces of the anti-Christ, bringing
a
devastation that will herald the triumphant Return of Jesus. For me, as
I understand their expectations, their support for Israel is prompted
not by a real concern for Jews or the Jewish state-- but by the
end-of-time conversion of 144,000 Jews, and the destruction of Israel.
And then there is the problem of their middle east
politics.
They oppose Israeli withdrawal from the West Bank, or anywhere in
Greater Israel. They absolutely oppose a two-state solution, to
any
negotiations with the Palestinians, and to any kind of "land for peace"
agreement.
I thus challenged my Evangelical colleague to tell
me if he does
or does not support a strong and secure Israel only as a means to the
apocalyptic Armageddon of an Israel destroyed. And I asked him if his
theology then determined his position on Israeli politics.
The first benefit of our one-on-one discussion last January,
was an
invitation from me for Pastor Carlson to speak here on a Friday night,
and an invitation from him for me to speak at his church on a Sunday.
And though there were areas of theology in which we could not agree
(obviously), his take on Christians United for Israel was remarkably
similar to mine. We realized that having found common ground on the
relationship of politics and religion, and because we had already for
some time shared common social action goals, perhaps we ought to take
our relationship to the next level and challenge ourselves and our two
congregations with a frank and forthright discussion of faith, belief
and theology.
So he invited his church and I
invite you, to read the
book The Christian and the Pharisee, a collection of letters between
an Orthodox rabbi and an Evangelical minister. Our discussion
of the book will take place on
-
Sunday,
October 7. I urge you to read the book
(it's
available for purchase from our office) and even if you haven't, to
come to the discussion.
-
Then on Sunday,
November 11, Pastor Carlson
and
members of Berkley Community Church will be coming here for program
of discussion and dialogue on issues raised in the book.
For a long time, I had always assumed
that because we see the world from
such different religious and cultural and theological perspectives,
there couldn't be honest, direct and challenging dialogue between Jews
and Evangelicals. I'm now convinced that for our congregation and for
that church, this will indeed be a fruitful and educational
exchange,
and that in the long run, this may be more significantly and importantly
beneficial to us than any program or project with mainline liberal
Protestants or Catholics. This will be an interesting interfaith fall.
I'm hoping that I'll continue to be surprised.
Shana tova.
Rabbi
Joseph P. Klein [rabbi@rabbiklein.com]
Temple Emanu-El
14450 W 10 Mile Rd.
Oak Park MI 48237
248-967-4020; fax 248-967-4284
www.emanuel-mich.org
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