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High Holidays Sermons

Ayin leTziyyon Tzofiyyah / An Eye Still Gazes Toward Zion – Into the Future, Part III: Kol Nidrei 5784

There is a healthy portion of folks among us who believe politics has no place on the bimah. Others want to hear political views, but only if those views reflect their own. 

I need to preface my remarks this evening by pointing out that Beth Shalom has been a Zionist congregation since at least 1921*, and the Conservative movement is the only movement that has been Zionist from the outset. So speaking about politics in Israel, on this holiest night of the year, when the Faye Rubinstein Weiss Sanctuary is quite full, is, one might say, fundamental to our mission. As those who love and support the people and the State of Israel,we must be aware of and engaged with the current events I am going to discuss this evening.

Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel, to the Jews, is different from any other place. It is where we came from, and where our tradition has focused its yearnings for return for two millennia. Our people are indigenous to that land, and even though many of us live comfortably in Diaspora, it is the only place in the world where the Jewish people can exercise their own democratic self-determination as a people. 

The establishment of the State of Israel in 1948 by a tremendous confluence of historical events created a merkaz ruani, a spiritual center for the Jewish people in that land, to use the language of the proto-Zionist writer Aḥad HaAm. Most of us in this room are American Jews, but what ultimately unites us with the rest of the Jewish world is our connection to the land of Israel, to the city of Jerusalem, and of course to the largest Jewish community in the world, which lives there. It is the center hub of the Jewish wheel. Like it or not, our fate in Diaspora is intimately tied to that land, and we refer to the State in our prayers as “reishit tzemiḥat ge-ulateinu,” the dawn of the flowering of our redemption.

Ahad HaAm

When it comes to Israel, passions run quite high and whatever I say, some will be pleased while others upset. 

So I am going to do something which some might say is in bad form, but given that it is Yom Kippur is actually completely appropriate. I am first going to ask for your seliḥah, your forgiveness. I am going to try to describe the challenge that Israel faces at the moment, and then give us a charge regarding how we should respond. And I am going to do the best I can do not to inflame or disparage, but rather to highlight the principles which we all share, and which I hope that the State of Israel continues to share. And I might fail. So please, I ask for your forgiveness in advance.

***

My first visit to Israel was in the summer of 1987. I was seventeen years old, and I attended the Alexander Muss High School in Israel, which is a study-abroad program for high school students. It was an eye-opening and emotional experience, and gave life and a tangible connection to our people’s deep yearning for a homeland, and that land in particular.

What I saw that summer, now 36 years ago, was a young and growing nation seeking a sense of normalcy. Unlike where I grew up, this was a place where Jewish people who had come from diverse lands, speaking many languages and carrying aspects of many cultures, came to fulfill the ancient dream of qibbutz galuyot / the ingathering of the exiles. The Ethiopian Jews were new to the country then, having been transported from their war-torn homeland. It was all very exciting, and it filled me with Jewish and Zionist pride.

I recall a powerful shared experience that perhaps some of you had as well, during my first visit to the Kotel, the Western Wall in Jerusalem. Every single one of the members of our group, even the one non-Jewish kid, upon approaching the wall, found tears welling up out of nowhere. We all touched that warm, ancient rock, and bawled our eyes out. I am still not sure entirely why this happened, but it was remarkable.

When I returned, 12 years later in 1999 to live there as an adult, the depth and breadth of my love for the land and the State matured to include understanding some of the challenges that the State of Israel faced: growing concern about the water supply and environmental degradation, deep political divisions of various sorts, high cost of living compared to salaries, crowded cities, poor customer service,  a high-stress environment, and similar issues of poverty and dysfunction and malfeasance that are present in all nations. And traffic. Horrible vehicular traffic. In short, I came to see Israel as a real country, rather than some imagined Jewish utopia reflecting the spirit of Herzl and Aḥad HaAm and other Zionist dreamers.

Many American Jews have been to Israel and care deeply about her. Many of us have celebrated Israel’s successes and mourned her losses. We have a deep, emotional and religious connection with this land, its people, and of course the very idea of a Jewish state. And we should absolutely strive to maintain that.

But we also have to be aware that the State of Israel is right now engaged in the deepest internal conflict of her 75-year history. We need to be informed about it, why it is happening, and what we can do. And of course we have to stand by our Israeli cousins in their hour of need.

Here’s a brief anecdote to introduce the challenge at hand. 

One thing that Israel has done recently to alleviate at least some of the traffic is to build new light rail systems in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. The first line of the TLV system just opened in August, and you might have thought that it was a slam dunk for Tel Aviv. Unfortunately, that’s not exactly what transpired.

When Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu cut the ribbon on the new line on August 16, after eight years of construction and two years of pandemic delay, not only was the ceremony not attended by Tel Aviv mayor Ron Huldai, but it attracted protesters and threats of a boycott. 

The protests were at least nominally in reaction to the fact that the new system does not run on Shabbat. Tel Aviv is a very secular city, and some residents are upset that their metro line is shomer shabbat / Sabbath observant. 

Struggles between religious Jewish observance and secular independence are not new in Israel. But the dynamic in play right now is actually more complicated, and much deeper, part of a larger context regarding the long-term struggle over the vision of the State and her future.

Now for some essential background.

Israel is a tribal place, where political rivals continue to try to best one another at all costs, and old resentments run deep. The vision of what Israel can and should be varies greatly between these tribes. Let me explain:  

These resentments began with the fractiousness of early Zionism, dating to the late 19th century. There were religious Zionists, secular Zionists, political Zionists, cultural and socialist and Hebraist Zionists and in reaction to all of them, the Orthodox and Reform non-Zionists. 

David Ben-Gurion and his associates were secular, and when they declared statehood in 1948 they turned over religious affairs to religious Jews. They gave the Chief Rabbinate control over personal status issues and exempted young, fervently Orthodox men from army service, creating a situation which yielded resentment between secular and Orthodox Israelis from the beginning that has only continued to build to this day. In ‘48, the secular leadership figured that the small number of so-called aredi (sometimes referred to in English as “ultra-Orthodox,” although that is not necessarily an accurate term) Jews in Israel at the time would never be significant; they were wrong.

During the early years of the State, even more resentment was bred when new Jewish immigrants from Arab countries, often referred to as Mizraḥim (“Eastern”), were housed in tent cities, sometimes for years, while Ashkenazi arrivals received apartments. 

And then of course there is the 20% of Israeli citizens who are Arab and resentful of their treatment at the hands of the Jewish majority. And then there is the very real challenge of the Palestinian territories and the moribund process for the creation of a Palestinian state alongside Israel. 

What has held most of these tribes more or less together for much of the last 75 years is Israeli liberal democracy. Not political liberalism, but liberal in the sense of liberty: committed to the rule of law, balance of government powers, and protecting civil rights, and in particular the rights of minorities. Failing democracies often see tribes forego protecting minority rights in favor of a winner-takes-all mentality, which causes a fraying of the social order and reversion to tribalism. The stage is set for that right now in Israel. 

Let’s talk about the current governing coalition, and some of the characters found therein.

The last election was nearly a year ago, and in the months following, Netanyahu’s center-right Likud party forged a Knesset coalition of right-wing and Ḥaredi / “ultra-Orthodox” parties with a slender majority of 64 seats out of 120. This majority reflects a narrow popular-vote win of about 30,000 out of 4.7 million votes cast. 

This means that, for the sake of forming that coalition, a few unsavory characters have now been elevated to positions of power.  Let’s take a close look at a few.

Among the Members of Knesset in this current coalition is the chair of the Religious Zionist party, Bezalel Smotrich, who is currently the Finance Minister of the State of Israel. 

His views on Arab citizens of Israel are controversial even within some right-wing quarters. He opposes the Two-State Solution, has questioned the legitimacy of Arab members of Knesset, claiming, “It’s a mistake that Ben-Gurion didn’t finish the job and throw you out in 1948,” and he has tweeted support for segregated maternity wards in Israeli hospitals, claiming “It is natural that my wife would not want to lie down next to someone who just gave birth to a baby that might want to murder her baby in another 20 years.” 

He has also claimed to be a “proud homophobe,” having created the “Beast Parade” in Jerusalem in 2006, a protest against that city’s gay pride parade.

He has denied the legitimacy of non-Orthodox conversions, and described Reform Judaism as ‘fake religion.” 

In 2005, in the context of Israel’s withdrawal from the Gaza Strip, Smotrich was arrested by the Shin Bet along with four others for being in possession of 700 gallons of gasoline with the intent to blow up a part of the Ayalon Freeway, the main artery through Tel Aviv. 

In 2019, Benjamin Netanyahu refused to give Smotrich either the cabinet position of Justice Minister, due to his advocating for “restoring Torah justice,” or the Minister of Diaspora Affairs, because Netanyahu was concerned that doing so would alienate Diaspora Jews (i.e. us).

Nevertheless, in this new government, Smotrich is now the Finance Minister, one of the most powerful positions in the cabinet.

Another member of this coalition is Itamar Ben-Gvir. Ben-Gvir is the only Member of Knesset from the Otzma Yehudit (literally, “Jewish Power”) party. As a teenager, Ben-Gvir was involved with the youth movement of the Rabbi Meir Kahane’s party, Kach. The Kach party was deemed so extreme that it was in fact outlawed in 1994 for supporting Jewish terrorists like Baruch Goldstein, who massacred 29 Palestinians at the Tomb of the Patriarchs in Ḥevron that year. (It has been reported that Ben-Gvir had a poster of Goldstein in his living room until three years ago.)

When Ben-Gvir was 18 and went through the draft process as most young Israelis do, he was barred from service in the IDF due to his extremist views.

He has continued to be a provocateur, going so far in 2019 as to state that Arab citizens of Israel who are not loyal to the state must be expelled. 

Itamar Ben-Gvir is now the Minister of National Security, whose portfolio includes supervising Israel’s activities in the West Bank. 

There are others: Avi Maoz, the sole representative of the Noam party, who has advocated for legalizing gay conversion therapy, is against women serving in the IDF, and has called for greater separation of gender at public events. 

And there is Aryeh Deri of the Shas party, former Interior Minister who was convicted in 2000 of taking $155,000 in bribes and served three years in prison; he re-entered politics and was convicted again in 2021, this time for tax offenses. Netanyahu appointed him Interior Minister, Health Minister, and Deputy Prime Minister in the current government, but within a month the Supreme Court struck down his appointment due to his convictions. 

In ordinary times, these characters would not be part of the majority coalition, much less given cabinet portfolios. But we are not in ordinary times. And while no one can dispute that Benjamin Netanyahu is a shrewd center-right politician who stands firm for the security of the Israeli people, it is obvious to nearly everybody that he has embraced these far-right allies to save himself from the multiple criminal charges he faces for fraud, breach of trust, and accepting bribes.

Many, many Israelis are extraordinarily upset by the makeup of this coalition, and they are rightfully concerned that it will discriminate based on religion, deny rights to women and minorities, annex the territories and put a stake through the heart of the Two-State Solution. Many are upset that military exemption will continue to be granted to young aredim, even though the Supreme Court has ruled in recent years that they must serve in the army.

Some of these things are explicit goals of coalition partners. And the means to make all of this happen is through judicial reform. 

As you may know, Israel has no constitution. And unlike in America, where we have a balance of powers between the Executive, Legislative, and Judicial branches of government, Israel only has two: the Knesset (which incorporates the Executive branch) and the Supreme Court. If the Knesset runs roughshod over liberal democratic norms by passing legislation which tramples on minority rights, the only check on its power is the Supreme Court.

In this Knesset, the majority coalition has presented a legislative package of judicial reforms, which aim to limit the power of the Supreme Court and thereby allow this government to have its way without any interference. Many Israelis see this as an existential crisis, an attack on the very principles of liberal democracy enshrined in its Declaration of Independence. 

The first major piece of this judicial reform package passed the Knesset in July. This law prevents the Supreme Court from using “reasonableness” as a standard for upholding the law. When the vote was taken, the opposition walked out en masse in protest, so the law passed 64-0. 

What this legislation effectively says is that if a simple majority of elected politicians, even 61 out of 120, believe that a government decision is reasonable, it does not matter if all the other 59 members of Knesset and all 15 members of the Supreme Court feel it is unreasonable. This is a tyranny of the majority that opens the door to corruption, among other potential abuses.

The Supreme Court began reviewing this law on September 12, and there is a strong likelihood that they will strike it down. If that happens, the State of Israel will be in uncharted waters.

And this “reasonableness” legislation is only the beginning of the reforms.

Remember that Israel has no separation between “synagogue and state.” Given the makeup of this government, everybody in this room is effectively part of a minority whose rights will be curtailed by a government which tips its hat to theocracy. Israel right now is only barely tolerant of non-Orthodox Judaism. How about an Israel that makes it outright illegal? Imagine being on a synagogue trip with your rabbi, holding a Shabbat service according to our customs, and suddenly we are arrested because men and women are sitting and praying together?

For 38 weeks now, every Saturday night, Israelis numbering in the hundreds of thousands, have taken to the streets in protest. I hope you have seen photos of the sea of Israeli flags held aloft by those gathered in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem and all over the country, as they chant, “De-mo-krat-ya!” – democracy, and “Bushah!” – shame. For those of us who know and love the State of Israel, it has been heartbreaking, and inspiring, to watch Israelis from different tribes – secular and religious, the political left and the center right, Ashkenazi and Mizraḥi, Arabs and Jews – speak out together against their own government. A range of professional groups – the Israel Medical Association, the Israel Bar Association, the Israel Business Forum, consisting of the 150 largest private-sector companies, have all raised their voices in protest. 

Many Israelis feel dejected. Anecdotal reports are that people are leaving, and of course the ones who can leave are generally the well-off: the entrepreneurs and investors, the high-tech employees. This is not good news for the economy, and of course for the poor of Israel.

Around 10,000 reserve-duty soldiers have signed a pledge refusing to do their voluntary army service, which is of great concern to the armed forces, particularly regarding the highly-specialized reservists like fighter pilots. Israel’s security may already be seriously compromised.

Estimates vary, but one conservative figure is that 2 million Israelis have joined protest marches. Israel’s population is about 10 million, so that would be an equivalent in America of about 70 million people in the streets, an astonishing number.

If you happened to catch the 60 Minutes piece on this last week, you heard from leaders of a group of army reservists called Aḥim LeNesheq, Brothers and Sisters in Arms. Citing the examples of Poland and Hungary, which are nominally democratic states leaning toward autocracy, they spoke in an unvarnished way.

Shira Eting, a former combat helicopter pilot, one of the few female pilots, and now a Principal at the Vintage Investment fund, which invests in early-stage technologies, said “Every democracy that has turned into a dictatorship was elected in a democratic way. This is how democracies become dictatorships.” 

Ron Sherf, former commander of the elite Sayyeret Matkal unit, and VP for R&D at Stratasys, immediately added, “And it’s not like you wake up one day and say, ‘OK, now we are a dictatorship.’ Small, small things will change the face of Israel. People tend to say, ‘Wow! In my country, THIS can happen? No, no, it’s only these guys shouting. But it’s happening.’”

I hope now that you understand the challenge of the current moment the way that a clear majority of Israelis see it. The State is in crisis. Nothing about this current reality is normal.

Now we have to turn to the future. What can we do, here on the other side of the world?

It would be very easy to just look the other way, and go about our business as usual, to give lip-service and merely continue being supportive of Israel from a distance, and assume that the Israeli public will sort it out for themselves. Israel advocacy in America in recent years has been mostly that. We’ll send you our military support, we’ll send you our tourist dollars, and we will not comment on your internal politics. 

And in fact, Israelis have historically demanded that of American Jews. “How dare you tell us how to deal with our problems, when you don’t face the daily possibility of terrorist attacks, when you don’t send your beloved 18-year-old girls and boys into the army to face real enemies who want to kill you. How dare you challenge our political choices when you do not live in the pressure-cooker that is the Middle East?! Make aliyah, come here and live this first, and then we’ll talk politics.”

It is absolutely true that the State of Israel is in a precarious position, and all the more so, that is why we must have skin in this game. We cannot turn away. As we sing in Hatiqvah, “Ayin letziyyon tzofiyyah.” Our eye still gazes toward Zion, as it has throughout our history.

We should all be aware of is the following text from Israel’s Declaration of Independence, which was read by Ben Gurion in what is today called Independence Hall in Tel Aviv, May 12, 1948, as he declared Israeli statehood:

THE STATE OF ISRAEL will be open for Jewish immigration and for the Ingathering of the Exiles; it will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations.

This vision of a State rooted in the prophetic vision of our tradition, connects Israel to fundamental Jewish values: Oseh shalom bimromav (May God bring some heavenly peace to Earth); Tzedeq, tzedeq tirdof (Justice, you shall pursue justice – Devarim / Deuteronomy 16:20). This vision should guarantee freedom of religion, specifically leaving room for the protection of other religious traditions and cultures. 

Ben-Gurion went on:

WE APPEAL to the Jewish people throughout the Diaspora to rally round the Jews of Eretz-Israel in the tasks of immigration and upbuilding and to stand by them in the great struggle for the realization of the age-old dream – the redemption of Israel.

From the very beginning, 75 years ago, Diaspora Jewry was called to help redeem the people and the Land of Israel. And so we must do today, as the State of Israel is in crisis.

We must lean in. We must be at the table in every way we can: being in touch with our Israeli friends and relatives, expressing our love of Israel and our concern to our elected representatives here in America, and of course being financially supportive, and this imperative can take multiple forms.

We must be a part of the struggle for liberal democracy in Israel. We can do so by redirecting our financial resources, not by withdrawing support, to be intentional with our dollars in a way that sends a message yet does not hurt Israel’s most vulnerable citizens. We must support charitable organizations that stand for democracy and good government in Israel. Here are a few such organizations:

And we must raise our voices for the vision of Israel which maintains democratic norms, the rule of law and the balance of power, which protects the rights of minorities, which ensures that Israel does not slide into religious or ethnic intolerance, or discrimination of any kind.

The Talmud teaches us that the Second Temple was destroyed due to sin’at ḥinnam, baseless hatred. After the Romans destroyed that Temple and laid waste to Jerusalem, the Jews were scattered all over the world, unredeemed and wandering for nearly two millennia. 

This Yom Kippur marks 50 years since Israel was attacked unawares by her Arab neighbors; we cannot allow  sin’at ḥinnam to succeed in doing what tanks and combat aircraft could not.

Theodor Herzl, the Hungarian journalist who set in motion the modern Zionist movement which culminated in the establishment of the State, wrote the following:

I once called Zionism an infinite ideal…as it will not cease to be an ideal even after we attain our land, the Land of Israel. For Zionism… encompasses a hope not only for a legally secured homeland for our people… but also the aspiration to reach moral and spiritual perfection.

Ayin leTziyyon tsofiyyah. As our eyes continue to gaze eastward, to our ancient homeland, we must keep Herzl’s vision of moral and spiritual perfection before us all. We must continue to sit at the Zionist table, to support the people, the idea, and the State of Israel, to support freedom, justice, and peace in that land, in our land, the vision of our prophets. And we must rally around the vision of democracy as we continue to seek the realization of that age-old dream of redemption.

~

Rabbi Seth Adelson

(Originally delivered at Congregation Beth Shalom, Pittsburgh, PA, evening of Yom Kippur 5784, 9/24/2023.)

* I am grateful to Eric Lidji, director of the Rauh Jewish History Program & Archives at the Senator John Heinz History Center, and Dr. Barbara Burstin, member of Beth Shalom and instructor at the University of Pittsburgh, who shared with me archival materials about Beth Shalom’s early involvement with raising funds for Zionist causes.

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High Holidays Sermons

Into the Future, Part II: Why Conservative Judaism – Rosh Hashanah 5784, Day 2

I have been a Conservative rabbi now for sixteen years, and sixteen is a great number for those who love math: it’s two to the fourth power, the base for the hexadecimal system, a favorite of computer programmers. Also, in gematria, the system of interpreting Hebrew letters through their numerical values, sixteen represents one half of the the four-letter name of God (the Tetragrammaton), which is so holy, even only the half of it, that when we represent numbers in Hebrew we don’t use the letters “yod-vav” (10+6) to represent sixteen, but rather “tet-zayin,” which is 9+7. It’s a different path to the same thing, but remarkable nonetheless. So sixteen is considered a powerful and resonant number in Jewish life.

But more importantly, I am also a lifelong Conservative Jew, and I was committed to the principles of our movement long before I could even identify and explain them. 

[Read the first in the Into the Future series: It’s About Us]

Growing up in Western Massachusetts, in a fairly rural area, our Conservative synagogue felt like an extension of our living room, even though we lived 20 miles away, which for most of us seems quite far. But we knew about the Conservative teshuvah / rabbinic opinion permitting driving to synagogue if you lived too far to walk, and that was very important to us. We were a regular Shabbat-morning family, and the friendly mix of people and melodies and easygoing, egalitarian approach to halakhah was just right for us. 

My childhood synagogue: Congregation Knesset Israel, Pittsfield, Massachusetts

Some of you may have noticed that back in August, the Pittsburgh Jewish Chronicle hosted a poll on their website about identification with movements. It was heartening to see that 30% of respondents indicated that they identify with the Conservative movement. Now, of course that’s a totally non-scientific poll, drawing on presumably a more highly-engaged segment of the Jewish community. Nonetheless, that figure is about twice the national average of identification found in recent demographic studies. So there are still plenty of people in our neighborhood who are drawn to what we do and continue to see Beth Shalom as a source of inspiration and holiness.

And with good reason. I will totally concede my bias here, but I believe firmly that what we do in the Conservative movement still holds great appeal for many Jews, and if we could be better at explaining ourselves, many more would see that our approach to Judaism is the key to the Jewish future.

Conservative Judaism’s strength lies in its ability to hold on to our tradition but adapt to a changing world. This feature will be essential in the future, as we face rapid change.

And that is why the future of the Conservative movement is so important. And that is why we need you to be not just participants, not just members of Beth Shalom, but active ambassadors for what we do.

So what is it we do? What are the positively-articulated principles that make us not simply “not Reform and not Orthodox”? Or, as the old, totally inappropriate joke goes, not just the “hazy” between the “lazy” and “crazy.”

What makes this shul different from all other shuls? 

We surveyed 100 congregants, and the top seven answers are on the board. (OK, so I didn’t have the budget for a board.)

  1. We are halakhic. First and foremost, we accept halakhah, Jewish law, as framing our rituals and our behavior. But we also understand that halakhic framework as being subject to minimal (i.e. “conservative”) change to reflect contemporary values. This means that our path to spiritual fulfillment reflects considered and often lenient approaches to matters within Jewish law. In doing so, we aim to ensure that our rituals and our liturgy reflect where we are today.
  2. We are egalitarian. All adults, including those who have been traditionally excluded from some of our essential mitzvot, are counted equally as full participants in Jewish life. For example, we call young women to the Torah as a bat mitzvah at age 13, just like the boys. This is for many of us a fundamental value, and I know from many conversations with members over the years that it is a defining characteristic that has brought many of us here.
  3. We are scientific. Our current body of knowledge guides our understanding of the origins of the world, and Torah, and the unfolding of our tradition over the last few thousand years. That is, while we acknowledge the Divine origin of Judaism, we also accept the undeniable evidence of the human hand in crafting and interpreting our ancient holy texts. Where science and the Torah disagree, we acknowledge that having multiple stories upon which we can draw for inspiration is in fact a strength.
  4. We are open to modern understandings of God. We need not be limited to seeing God only as the all-powerful yet vengeful character in the Torah who sits on a throne and metes out reward and punishment. Now, that is a conception from which we may like to draw, particularly on High Holidays, but there are many wonderful modern theologians – Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, Martin Buber, Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, Rabbi Neil Gillman – who have given us the gift of contemporary theology, enabling each of us to wrestle with God personally in a meaningful way.
  5. We maintain a traditional communal standard. While we acknowledge that there is a wide range of personal observance choices within our community, Beth Shalom is a building in which we keep kosher, we observe Shabbat in a traditional way, and we uphold our traditions and rituals mostly as we have inherited them.
  6. We believe in Am Yisrael, Jewish peoplehood, while grappling in an honest way with current realities of American Jewry, which reflect the wider palette of Americans: non-traditional families and not exclusively Ashkenazic ancestry for everyone within our view, while of course maintaining a halakhic standard regarding who is a Jew.
  7. We remain firmly committed to the idea and the people of the State of Israel. Like any other people, Jews have the right to self-determination in their own land. While Jews living in the Diaspora are proud and loyal citizens of their lands, the Diaspora must also be connected and invested in Israel to ensure her survival as the spiritual center of the Jewish world. And of course we are committed to our family and friends who live there, while also acknowledging the very real challenges that the State faces in managing its own future. (I will be speaking about this at length at our Kol Nidrei service.)

Those are the top of my list of our most important principles; I am sure that some of you might value another principle that is missing here, but that’s the nature of our tradition! 

Each of those principles which I just outlined is at least a sermon unto itself.

But we do not have time for that, so instead I am going to share a piece of Torah as a sort of capstone to these seven principles, and I hope you will take this to heart as you step forward to be an ambassador for Conservative Judaism and for Beth Shalom. It’s from the first chapter of Pirqei Avot, the 2nd-century collection of rabbinic wisdom featured in the Mishnah:

Pirqei Avot 1:12

הִלֵּל וְשַׁמַּאי קִבְּלוּ מֵהֶם. הִלֵּל אוֹמֵר, הֱוֵי מִתַּלְמִידָיו שֶׁל אַהֲרֹן, אוֹהֵב שָׁלוֹם וְרוֹדֵף שָׁלוֹם, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת וּמְקָרְבָן לַתּוֹרָה

Hillel and Shammai received the oral tradition from their teachers. Hillel used to say: be like the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving all people and drawing them close to the Torah.

This passage is notable not only because of its essential message, but also because it replaces a passage found in most Orthodox siddurim. And the fact that the Conservative movement substituted this passage about loving and pursuing peace is quite telling indeed. 

You see, the way most Orthodox services unfold in the morning is that they read a series of texts about animal sacrifices in the ancient Temple in Jerusalem, which of course was destroyed by the Romans in the year 70 CE. And then they say, “May the Temple in Jerusalem be rebuilt speedily in our days.” 

Model of the Second Temple in Jerusalem at the Israel Museum

So at some point in the 20th century the Conservative movement decided that well, we’re just not so excited about rebuilding the Beit haMiqdash and restoring the process of sacrificing animals that ended nearly 2,000 years ago. We have prayer, which is, ultimately, a better way of reaching God.

So we took out many of those references to animal sacrifice, and substituted language which suits our values. The suggestion is that we start each day not with an imperative to rebuild the Temple, but rather to reach out to one another with the goal of peace: peace between individuals, peace between nations, and all of that undergirded with words of Torah. We respond to God’s loving gift of Torah with love; and we act on that love to pursue peace in our world.

Because what should Torah do, when applied properly? It should bring people together. It should tear down walls and cause us to make peace with one another. Torah is the source of shalom, and acting on Torah with love for our fellow Jews and our fellow people of all walks of life is the way we create a holier future.

And there is a certain irony in that passage, because Hillel and Shammai were rivals in Jewish thought. Hillel generally took lenient positions in halakhah, and Shammai took the stringent position. They disagreed on virtually every place where it was possible to disagree. And yet in doing so, they sought peace. In fact, the Talmud teaches us (BT Yevamot 13b) that despite their disagreements, the scholars in each of the opposing schools still married each others’ daughters. That is, they continued to live together and raise families together despite fundamental disagreement. 

The Conservative movement seeks the path of love and peace by acknowledging that we live in a world that is quite different from the one in which the Talmud, and all the more so, the Torah were written. We see that in order to follow the path of love and peace, we have to live in this world, and not isolate ourselves. And we must also still remain in community with those with whom we disagree, to the right and to the left.

We are the vibrant center that can hold the Jewish world together. Our current climate is one which breeds division of all sorts; as the movement which occupies the center of Jewish life, all over the world, it is within our purview to reach out to find common ground.

We offer what is for many still a viable spiritual home: adherence to tradition, with a willingness to consider how the world has changed and how our tradition should change with it. Hence counting all adults as equal in Jewish law. Hence treating a marriage between two Jewish men or two Jewish women as being equivalent to that between a man and a woman. Hence understanding that taking lenient positions, like Hillel himself, strengthens our connection to our tradition and widens our tent, creating more peace.

Some of you know that our local Federation scholar, Rabbi Danny Schiff, published a book within the past year called, Judaism in a Digital Age, in which he declared that the moment for movements within Judaism has passed. Rabbi Schiff and I had a very spirited public disputation about the Jewish future here at Beth Shalom last winter. I’m a movement guy, by which I mean that I believe that institutions such as the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism still hold a good deal of value as a “brand” within the Jewish world. And I am proud that we are affiliated with the movement. 

Beth Shalom has emerged from the pandemic not just unscathed, but also with a path forward for sustainability, including the $1 million matching grant for redevelopment from the State of Pennsylvania. 

We have successfully launched the Ḥavurah program, which connects members of our congregation in small groups for social activities, and I am certain it will help build more connections in our community, to make Beth Shalom more highly integrated. (By the way, if you missed joining, it’s not too late! Be in touch with our Executive Director, Robert Gleiberman, and we’ll connect you with other Beth Shalom members like you.)

All of that is wonderful, but it is not enough. The future of Beth Shalom, and the Conservative movement, depends on you. It depends on your willingness to commit yourself not only to belonging, but also to showing up. To take advantage of everything that we do here, and to take it home and make it a part of who you are and how you live.

Now of course, stepping up your involvement may seem daunting. Where do you start? How about coming to see me to talk about how to engage more in Jewish life and your community. I am happy to help you craft a path to enriching your Jewish involvement so that you and your family may benefit more handsomely from everything that Jewish living offers.

And trust me on this: your investment of time and energy and resources into Beth Shalom will be worth it. In being more deeply connected to our tradition and to each other, you will gain a sense of kedushah / holiness, of groundedness which will carry you confidently into the future.

So what will make the future of Beth Shalom and the Conservative movement brighter? Of course there are the essential principles I outlined above, which we must continue to uphold and value – I take those things as a baseline. But here are some other things we will be addressing, moving forward:

  1. Complete egalitarianism with respect to ritual practice. As with all transitions within institutions, change is slow. So while many women in our congregation have embraced the mitzvah of wearing a tallit during morning services, and a small number fulfill the mitzvah of tefillin, we still have a long way to go to ensure that all feel welcome and indeed obligated to participate fully in the time-bound mitzvot which have traditionally only been incumbent upon men. This is an active conversation at the Religious Services Committee.
  2. Telling our story. We need to be able to positively articulate why we do what we do. That is precisely why I gave you the list of seven essential principles today. Having that language available will make you a better ambassador for Beth Shalom, which will lead to a more sustainable future for this congregation. Feel free to cut and paste from above! You need to know this, and you need to be able to share it with others. Our story, our values, our principles, have real value that we must continue to broadcast to the world.

    We also have to tell and retell our story as a congregation, particularly as we enter the upcoming capital campaign. Our future will depend on our being able to describe where we have been and where we are going, and we hope to engage all of you with that as we move forward.
  3. Increased interconnectedness. The Ḥavurot are just one means. The more you come to Beth Shalom – for services, for programs, for lifecycle events – the more that you will feel ownership and connected to others. Just about everything we do includes food and schmoozing opportunities – there is a reason for that! We want you to feel like you are an essential part of this community, that this is your shul, that I am your rabbi.

We have the ability, as the ideological center of the Jewish world, to hold us all together. We are a model for living together even in the face of disagreement,  for peace and love in Torah. And the world needs that now, more than ever.

So go out there and be an ambassador. That will ensure a healthy future for the Conservative movement, and for the rest of the Jewish world as well.

And here is one way you can do so: Rabbi Shugerman and I and a few other lay leaders and staff will be headed to the USCJ Biennial convention (which, for unexplained reasons, they are calling a “Convening” this year) in Baltimore from Dec. 3-5. It will require an investment of time and money, but every time we send a delegation to this convention, we come back with new ideas which help us be a better congregation. If you’re thinking about it, come talk to me. We would love to have you join us.

A final note from the Mishnah I quoted above. The text reads:

אוהב שלום ורודף שלום

Ohev shalom verodef shalom. Loving peace and pursuing peace. Those are two different things! It’s not enough merely to love peace; you have to go out there and make it happen. Likewise for the future of Beth Shalom: it will not be enough for us merely to appreciate Conservative Judaism. Rather, we have to continue to practice it, support it, and spread the word.  

Shanah tovah!

Next in the series:

Kol Nidrei: The Future of Israel

Yom Kippur: The Future Must Be Human

Categories
High Holidays Sermons

Into the Future, Part I: It’s About Us – Rosh Hashanah 5784, Day 1

Once upon a time, I was a big fan of science fiction. I loved the work of Arthur C. Clarke, and in particular 2001: A Space Odyssey, both the book and Stanley Kubrick’s fantastic 1968 film version. Clarke’s visions were often of future worlds where humans interacted with usually-benevolent alien powers. Humanity was not inclined to destroy itself; rather, humans found their way off of our home planet and out into the universe with gradual technological innovation, facilitated by alien assistance. Sure, in 2001 the computer HAL 9000 goes on a murderous rampage in an epic fail of artificial intelligence, but that is just a small hiccup on the way to the creation of the Star-Child by some vastly superior alien power to aid humanity.

I think that many of us are concerned that the future may not be as bright as science fiction writers like Clarke and others envisioned. In our current moment, it may seem as though Clarke misread the future by being hopelessly naive about our species. After all, many things have gone horribly wrong. Consider where we are today:

  • The very people who created artificial intelligence are warning that it may in fact be a real threat
  • We are being relentlessly tracked and mined for data by commercial and government interests
  • What is objectively true has become relative to your political perspective
  • Culture wars have pitted us against our neighbors on multiple fronts
  • Anxiety and depression are on the rise
  • Anti-Semitic activity has increased dramatically
  • Authoritarianism is also back with a vengeance while democracy is in decline

I could go on. Global warming. Opioid abuse. Homelessness. Loneliness. The list of society’s ills continues to grow.

One of my primary jobs as a rabbi is to try to keep us inspired and optimistic about the future. It’s not so easy in today’s environment.

But we Jews have an ancient secret that has enabled us to survive the worst of times for thousands of years. We have survived persecution and dispersion; we have survived exile and genocide; we have survived forced conversions, forced conscriptions, anti-Jewish legislation and regimes of all sorts. We survived the destruction of Jerusalem at the hands of the Babylonians 2600 years ago, and the Romans 2000 years ago. We survived accusations that the Jews caused the Black Death in the 14th century and we survived the Expulsion from Spain a century-and-a-half later. We survived the Holocaust. Even as we in Pittsburgh continue to mourn the 11 holy souls whom we lost on the 27th of October, 2018, we as a community survive and continue to thrive.

And what is that secret Jewish super-power? It is our holy framework, which has unfolded over the last 3,000 years through Torah and its ongoing interpretation. It is the story of our past, coupled with our willingness to continue to engage with it, to retell it, to cling to it, and to apply it to navigate the present. And it is our inclination to gather with other Jews, to be together in community for mutual support and meaningful engagement.

In short, it’s about us. Our story, our community, and our rituals, all intertwined.

One piece of ancient wisdom we learn in Pirqei Avot (4:21):

רַבִּי יַעֲקֹב אוֹמֵר, הָעוֹלָם הַזֶּה דּוֹמֶה לִפְרוֹזְדוֹר בִּפְנֵי הָעוֹלָם הַבָּא. הַתְקֵן עַצְמְךָ בַפְּרוֹזְדוֹר, כְּדֵי שֶׁתִּכָּנֵס לַטְּרַקְלִין:

Rabbi Ya’aqov taught: this world is like a vestibule before the world to come; prepare yourself in the vestibule, so that you may enter the banquet hall.

If we are to enter the future in a way that is healthy and sustainable, we have to be ready for it. And the way that we the Jews can do so, for the benefit of the rest of the world, is to use the framework that we have received from our ancestors, because it has worked for thousands of years. It is our fervent desire, for our collective benefit, that humanity makes it to the banquet hall of the future.

Over these High Holidays, we will be talking about moving “Into the Future” from different angles. Today, it’s about us. Tomorrow, we will be discussing the future of Conservative Judaism. On the evening of Kol Nidrei, we will discuss our future vis-à-vis the State of Israel. And on the day of Yom Kippur, we will be speaking about retaining our humanity as artificial intelligence infuses itself into our lives.

***

In all of the challenges that we have faced at any point in time, the Jewish inclination has always been to look to the past. How did our ancestors survive? By re-reading the Torah, by arguing about it, by following its guidelines for behavior and emulating the better qualities of its major characters, and by applying it to our lives wherever we have been and whatever we have faced.  

And this formula still works today. 

In his 2017 book Homo Deus, the Israeli history Yuval Noaḥ Harari explains what fundamentally differentiates humans from other animals. While there are many species, from ants to chimpanzees, that form social groups in which the individuals cooperate by playing distinct roles, only humans have the potential to act collectively in a way that can change our destiny. In other words, a bee hive is a kind of community, but bee colonies will always more or less be the same – the same structure, the same system of “governance,” with, as far as we know, no long-term sense of past or future.

But humanity is different, particularly due to our ability to gather around shared stories. And all the more so for us, the Jews. Our stories, our texts, our wisdom hold us together and help us move forward, with an eye to our past. Our strength as a people is on our collective bookshelf, and in our hearts and minds. 

One essential lesson, fundamental to Jewish life, is the idea that we are all connected to one another. Two pieces of wisdom in particular say, in essence, that we have to think about “us” before we think about “me” or “you” or “them.” 

  1. Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh (Midrash Sifra on Vayiqra / Leviticus 26:37)

We are all “arevim” – guarantors for one another. The word arevim comes from the Hebrew for “to mix.” We are all mixed up, or integrated with one another. And given the way we live today, not just with fellow Jews, but with our non-Jewish neighbors. We must all be responsible for one another.

  1. Al tifrosh min hatzibbur (Pirqei Avot 2:4)

Do not separate yourself from the community. We cannot all be individuals in complete isolation from one another. Our shared, just, sustainable future depends on our willingness to be in relationship, to acknowledge each other’s humanity. That is, we have to think about us as a collective with a shared destiny. And that is harder to do than it is to say, particularly given that the way our society is constructed today tends to isolate, rather than bring together.

And to universalize once again, the same is true for the entire world. It has become woefully easy to divorce yourself from the people around you. And this is not good for humanity.

Back in August, my son introduced me to a YouTube channel online produced by a “YouTuber” who goes by the name of Mrwhosetheboss. What he does is review hi-tech products, and we watched a review of a new gadget: Apple’s virtual-reality headset, which will be available early next year at the low, low, bargain-basement price of $3500.

After gushing about the revolutionary marvels of this gadget he makes a stunning confession: 

There’s already very little separation between us and our technology. You only have to take your phone out of your pocket and your screen auto-turns-on and you’re blasted by notifications. When the device is on your face, there’s no escaping it, and that’s slightly worrying… But the key thing about this headset that I don’t think any future or vision of this headset can solve is the potential for isolation. I am so incredibly excited that this new era of tech is here, but I’ve never wanted, and NOT wanted, a product to exist at the same time as much as I do with this one, for the simple fact that I do think this is the start of the end for shared experiences.

That is not the future for me, in which we are all in our own sensory bubbles, where all of our communication with others and the outside world is through an intermediary, which controls every aspect of the experience. That seems to me a wee bit too close to The Matrix, rather than Arthur C. Clarke.

Now, I need to state clearly:  I am NOT anti-technology. In fact I believe technology will do wonderful things for us if we use it cautiously. 

But here is the point: every one of us in this room has a wonderful tool at your disposal to build social capital and fight isolation: Judaism. Our faith is one of the best sources of social capital. This synagogue is an ancient technology that still does an amazing job at bringing people together as a force for good in the world. 

Here is a four-point plan (out of many more possible Jewish points) to save our future:

  1. Shabbat (or, setting aside sacred time)
  2. Kashrut (or mindful consumption)
  3. Shemirat halashon (or mindful speech)
  4. Tefillah (or, meditative moments)

Each of these items are among the most important principles of Jewish life, located at the nexus of the personal and the communal. They unite the “me” with the “us.”

Shabbat / Setting Aside Sacred Time

Many of us observe Shabbat in a traditional way in this congregation: we have luxurious family meals, often with guests, on Friday night and Saturday afternoon; we attend synagogue; we “unplug” for 25 hours from sunset on Friday till dark on Saturday night to devote time to family, friends, ritual and reflection.

In my own home, Shabbat is when the imperatives of our busy lives are placed on hold and we play games: Settlers of Catan, Wingspan, Rummikub, building with Legos. And of course, dining and napping as well.

But there are many more of us who do not unplug and reconnect on Shabbat. And even if you have some sense of what you might be missing by not observing Shabbat traditionally, I understand. It’s not so easy to close all your digital devices for that time, to disconnect, to not go shopping or watch YouTube. It’s not so easy even to plan Shabbat meals with family or friends.

But once you have truly tasted the traditional observance of Shabbat, where our range of activities is minimal and our relationship with the Earth and each other is more immediate and organic, you understand the value of setting aside sacred time.

And furthermore, when the news-and-outrage cycle goes non-stop, as Big Tech vies for your eyeballs and your money, shutting all of that down – even if just for 25 hours each week – is a mitzvah not just for you, but for the future of humanity.

Shabbat is good for your soul, but it also helps you connect with the people in your neighborhood, which is where we should all be at least once a week.

Shabbat / setting aside sacred time: it’s about us.

Kashrut / Mindful Consumption

Sure, you might think that holy eating is just an annoyance, an obstacle to living a full gustatory life, unencumbered by antiquated rules. Come on, Rabbi, what’s wrong with shrimp? Didn’t God also create shellfish? And beef is beef, whether an old guy with a beard blessed it or not, right?

Ask any parent whether they can properly raise children without boundaries. Kashrut is just that: a daily reminder that we cannot merely take all we want when we want it. Kashrut is Jewish mindfulness, a structure to help us maintain a sense of holiness in this world. And if we embrace a mindful consumption practice, it leads to a sense of interconnectedness with each other and all of God’s creatures. If we were all to practice this mindful way of eating, we have the potential to spread that awareness of our consumption patterns far and wide.

Even during my years as a young adult when I was not going regularly to synagogue, I maintained my kashrut practice, because it reminded me on a daily basis of my connection to our people and our tradition. Paying careful attention to what we eat, where it came from, and how our consumption affects God’s Creation models behavior for the rest of the world to appreciate.

Kashrut / mindful consumption: It’s about us.

Shemirat haLashon / Mindful speech

Our tongues need guards. We have to be ever-vigilant about the way we talk, and text, and tweet. With the dissolution of guardrails in speech, and with social media platforms which exercise little control over what is acceptable, we are in danger of creating a future in which words will be weaponized in unimaginable ways. It has never been so easy to destroy a person, an institution, an idea as it is today. If we are to maintain any sense of togetherness as a society, we have to be careful about what we say and how we say it. 

But sanctified speech is that where we acknowledge the power of our words and their potential for danger. Too many today are focused on dividing people through speech; only through shemirat halashon may we succeed in bringing people together for a better humanity and a better future.

Mindful speech is about respecting the humanity in each person.  Shemirat haLashon is about us.

Tefillah / Meditative Moments

There are many paths through Jewish life. But there is only one thing that gathers the Jews like no other, and that is being together in our house, the beit kenesset, the synagogue, the ancient and modern house of Jewish gathering.

Now, I know that tefillah is hard. It requires intent, concentration and practice, all things that can be challenging in a busy sanctuary during the High Holidays. And there is a high bar to entry. To fully participate, you have to be able to read Hebrew, or at least puzzle through transliterations. And there are tunes and choreography and ritual gear, which can be off-putting to the uninitiated.

But when we have prayerful moments together, when all the people in this room sing together, or meditate together, or even mumble together, it is breathtaking. And it is also be liberating – an upward spiral of energy that moves us as a community and ascends heavenward.

The Hebrew word, tefillah, does not mean, “to recite a jumble of ancient words in a language that nobody speaks.” It actually means “self-judgment.” When we stand together, ideally in silence, reciting the words of the Amidah, we create a strong sense of power in the room – hearts united in deep, meditative analysis of the self. If we allow ourselves to be swept up in the sense of tefillah as a community, it will help us all be better people, opening our hearts and bringing us together as a community. And this too has the potential to infuse the whole world with awareness and connection.

Tefillah / meditative moments: it’s about us.

***

OK, Rabbi, that all sounds great, but you have not convinced me. How exactly will this framework create a better future?

We have the power, when we think and act together, when we draw on our shared stories and ritual, to face all the challenges of our world in a way that will enable us to overcome. That is why the Jews are still here. We are a model for resilience, a model which can be shared with others.

My goal as your rabbi is, in facing the future, to recognize the awesome power of our Jewish framework, of your heritage, and to give it to the world. This world, God help us, needs to set aside sacred time, needs mindful consumption, mindful speech and meditative moments.

And indeed, the situation is urgent. We all have the potential to think, “Hey, I’m a good person. I am respectful of my neighbors. I make charitable donations. I replaced my incandescents with LEDs. I buy organic produce.” And hey, those things are great. 

But we have to think wider and greater than that. We have to think not just about ourselves or our immediate relations, but rather how we can influence the world for the better. Our future as a species depends on you to consider how your personal observance of essential Jewish principles can bring us safely and sustainably into the future. And this may only be realized if we take up the reins of our own personal Jewish observance and demonstrate its value to the world.

So here is a suggestion: Take one element of Shabbat – a holy moment every Friday evening at sunset to light candles as a family, for example -and build on that. One element of kashrut. Come once more to synagogue for a service than you ordinarily would, to learn a new prayer, a new tune, a new idea from our rich textual tradition.

And as you come to appreciate these aspects of our tradition yourself, you must share them with your friends and neighbors. Our ancient secret can be universalized and presented to the world. Not that we should try to make non-Jews practice Judaism, but to understand the eternal value of these principles so the whole world can derive the benefits of the Jewish secret. 

Do it for yourself, but all the more so, do it for us, so that we may all enter the banquet hall together. Into the future.

***

Next in the series:

Rosh HaShanah, Day 2: The Future of Conservative Judaism

Kol Nidrei: The Future of Israel

Yom Kippur: The Future Must Be Human

~

Rabbi Seth Adelson

(Originally delivered at Congregation Beth Shalom, Pittsburgh, PA, first day of Rosh Hashanah 5784, 9/16/2023.)