Yom Kippur Sermon 2008/5769 by Rabbi Lawrence R. Sernovitz
Tekiah: Hear the Call and Make a Difference
He was born in 1925, and like other members of “the Greatest Generation,” he went off to become a young veteran in World War II. Like millions of others, he got married and took full advantage of the monumental GI Bills providing access to college, and then entered the job market. He received his first full time job at 23 years old, in 1948, and as he likes to describe it, “was wondrously low-paid and high-quality.” He became the youngest member of a tiny staff of the coordinating council for Jewish community relations agencies, national and local, called the National Community Relations Advisory Council. It was primarily focused on the idealistic and universalistic task of forging a new and just post-Holocaust America for all Americans. They focused on breaking down the walls of racial discrimination and segregation; on drastically changing American immigration policy by eliminating the national origins quota system; pushing for a democratic post-war Germany; safeguarding church-state separation; and striving for economic justice for all Americans. In his words, “I was enthralled by the work, awed by the brilliance and dedication of my older colleagues, and confident that our work was surely advancing Jewish ideals and justice for all Americans.”
This young man was Albert Vorspan, and in this role at the National Community Relations Advisory Council, he worked closely with representatives of its member organizations, which included the Union for American Hebrew Congregations, known today as the Union for Reform Judaism. The UAHC’s representative was Rabbi Jay Kaufman. And, on one September day in 1953, Al asked Rabbi Kaufman a question that would change American Reform Judaism, and the United States of America. That question was, “How many member congregations and how many individuals constitute the Reform Movement? Rabbi Kaufman’s answer was, “600 Temples and almost a million members.” Al’s reply, “Wow!” He continued, “You have the potential to be the strongest force for social justice in the Jewish community, if you could find a way to harness the power of those congregations.” And, as those who volunteer your time, you know what’s coming-Al put his foot in his mouth. “Of course,” Rabbi Kaufman replied. “Would you be willing to think through some ideas on how to do that? I am very intrigued.” Al, now twenty-eight years old, idealistic and a go-getter, drafted a four page proposal and mailed it to Rabbi Kaufman. Little did he know, this proposal would lead him on a fifty-plus year journey working for the Reform Movement as the Director of the Commission on Social Action and making a profound difference in the United States as well as Internationally.
Rabbi Kaufman showed the proposal to his boss, the then president of the UAHC, Rabbi Maurice Eisendrath. Two days later he called Al, requesting a lunch meeting with him. They offered him a position on the Union’s staff, for a whopping $5700/year, which was $200 more than his job with the National Community Relations Advisory Council. His job: to implement his own ideas to develop a serious social action program. Al was excited but, as all good men understand, he had to consult with his wife first. Rabbi Kaufman replied that Al had three hours and instructed him to, “Go and call Shirley.” Al accepted the position.
That year, in 1953, the Reform Movement’s Commission on Social Action reorganized, undertaking a simple-sounding task: the role of the Commission on Social Action is to organize social action or community affairs committees in every Reform temple in America. There was much debate about this program, especially from those afraid of McCarthyism coming in and attacking the Union. Rabbi Eisendrath, in defense, cited Isaiah and Amos and said, “The prophets didn’t appear in periods of calm but of challenge and danger. It is precisely for a time like this that we need the prophetic voice of social justice.”
And, during the 1955 Los Angeles National Biennial Assembly of the Reform Movement, Rabbi Eisendrath stated the following,
“A guide to Reform Judaism do we desire? Indeed we do. But not for ritual and rites alone, but for righteous conduct and decent behavior between man and man; not merely for the forms of services but for the service of God in the affairs of man; not merely a minimum code for liturgical worship but a minimal code of moral conduct incumbent upon anyone who calls himself a Reform Jew presuming to be the heir of Hebrew Prophet and Sage. Even [the prophet Micah] prefaced his command “to walk humbly” with the demand “to do justly and to love mercy.” The resemblance between the noble name we bear and our bearing toward to our neighbor must be more than coincidental. It must be fundamental. It must translate our preachment into practice, our dogmas and doctrines into deed, our creed into conduct, our prayers into programs of moral righteousness and social justice, our invoking God’s name-too frequently in vain-into the establishment of God’s kingdom on earth. The Union overwhelmingly approved the program of the Commission on Social Action. And, how did this program become successful? Rabbi Bernard Bamberger gave some valuable advice to Al in his new role: Get out of the Union’s building and get out on the road. Visit every Temple. Sit down with every rabbi. That’s the key. Find a nucleus of people who care. Without that, your program is dead on arrival, another piece of paper streaming out of this building and ending up in the circular file of every temple.
Al took this advice. For him and for the Reform movement, social action and social justice was not an option, a luxury, a nice mitzvah, or another program; it was a Jewish moral imperative, the very soul and purpose of the Jewish faith. And for many years, Reform Jews changed American culture.
Unfortunately, Reform synagogues have lost the passion and commitment to pursue justice as a Jewish moral imperative as the years have gone by. Here at Beth Am, thanks to the efforts of Missy Germankin and others, we have held Mitzvah Days to encourage people to get involved. We have had “mini-mitzvah projects” through the religious school and our Bar and Bat Mitzvah students complete “Mitzvah” projects to fulfill their requirements. But, these projects just begin to scrape the surface of what social action and social justice work are all about. Tikkun Olam, the repair of the world, has been put on the back burner- a passing thought for many contemporary Reform Jews.
Franz Kafka wrote a little parable called “The Leopard in the Temple” which alludes to this dynamic. One day, a wild beast, ferocious looking, ravenous with flashing teeth, is loose in the synagogue. It is roaring and lashing his tail. Three weeks later, it becomes part of the scenery and the congregation forgets it is even there. Kafka understood what is radical to one generation becomes rote to the next.
The Leopard is none other than the message of Judaism, so routinized and ritualized as to become numbing rather than inspiring. The president of Hebrew Union College, Rabbi David Ellenson, upon our ordination as rabbis, told us that in order to be successful, we must, “comfort those who need to be comforted and irritate those who need to be irritated.” Too many of us have gotten too comfortable or not comfortable enough with what it means to be Jews and with our obligation to be partners with God and to repair this broken world of ours.
This lack of involvement is not simply just a Jewish “Thing,” but it is indicative of living in and being an integral part of American Society. Recently, Harvard political scientist Robert Putnam released a study about declining civic engagement in America. Dr. Putnam is also the author of the bestseller “Bowling Alone”, which came out in the year 2000. He found that as our American communities grow more diverse and more multicultural, a surprising trend seems to happen: people tend to vote less and volunteer less; to give less and share less in community projects. The social networks that connect us to one another get weaker. Based on interviews with nearly 30,000 people across America, Dr. Putnam’s study is the largest ever on civic engagement in America. And his conclusions are distressing: Living in a multicultural society, writes Dr. Putnam, “Seems to bring out the turtle in all of us.” Namely – we end up withdrawn, stuck in our own shell, and alone.
And, in the context of a society where neighbors are more and more isolated from one another, it is sad, and dangerous, too. Dr. Putnam himself has written about the side effects of isolation from our neighbors:
Kids fail to thrive. Crime rises. Politics coarsens. Generosity shrivels. Death comes sooner as social isolation is as big a risk factor for premature death as smoking. Well-connected people live longer and happier even if they have to forgo a new Lexus to spend time with friends.Rabbi Jonah Pesner, the new director of the Just Congregations department of the Union for Reform Judaism, also sees this trend as well within our congregations. He tells the following story which comes out of Congregation B’nei Jehoshua Beth Elohim, a Reform Synagogue in suburban Chicago, which began an initiative to bring social action and community organizing to their congregation. “They trained a leadership team to conduct an internal relationship building campaign in which hundreds of synagogue members had one-on-one meetings. In these conversations, members told their stories and described experiences of injustice in their own lives…they learned that a long-time member of their congregation had lost his family business when a “big-box” store moved into their neighborhood. As a result, the family could no longer afford health insurance. For the first time in their lives, this family was vulnerable and afraid. As they continued the organizing process, the team discovered that this family’s experience was hardly exceptional. Within the congregation, there was widespread anger and frustration with the broken health care system.” Rabbi Pesner remarks that, “Though this story is inspiring, it returns us to our challenge: Are our congregations truly covenantal communities? The startling aspect of this story is that before the congregation began to organize, no one knew of the private suffering of the families struggling with the health care system. How can it be that in a religious congregation, the suffering of members goes unseen and unheard?” As Rabbi Pesner continued to help Reform congregations organize nationwide, the leadership of these synagogues began to learn about the other people who share their sacred space and the issues which pervade their lives, from the minute to the major. If congregations, Beth Am included, are not aware of the suffering within our own community, how can we possibly address the injustices experienced by our members, and by the community at large?
We as a synagogue and holy community must get to know one another, not just to feel connected, but also in order to act collectively and make a difference in our community and in our world.
The Shofar is a reminder of this obligation. The series of Shofar blasts always begins and ends with a Tekiah. One of the great kabbalists, 16th century rabbi Yeshayah HaLevi Hurwitz, stated that this is the secret message of the voice of the Shofar:
Each group of sounds begins with a tekiah, whole note, proceeds to shevarim, a “broken” note divided into three parts, or even to a teruah, an entirely fragmented sound. But each broken note is followed by a whole note, another tekiah. This is the message of Rosh HaShana and the Days of Awe: “I started off whole, I became broken, even splintered into fragments, but I shall become whole again! I shall become whole again!”
We all know that the world in which we live is fragmented, broken, just like the blasts of the Shofar indicate. As a congregational community; as residents of Montgomery County; of the State of Pennsylvania, as citizens of the United States of America, and as lovers of the State of Israel, we have witnessed moments of great celebration in the past year. We have celebrated the 60th Anniversary of our beloved congregation as well as the State of Israel; we have celebrated new marriages, a multitude of B’nei Mitzvah, and have welcomed new babies into our lives and our community. We have shared in the joy of success, including the eight gold medals Michael Phelps won in the Beijing summer Olympics and the Philadelphia Phillies winning the National League East Division title. Bring on the Dodgers!
We have also known moments that make the heart stop and tears drip from our eyes. We have seen cherished family ties being torn apart through separation and divorce and have mourned the loss of beloved members of our congregational family to illness as well as old age. We have seen senior citizens neglected and struggle to put food on their table and at the same time, we have heard about the sandwich generation: parents who are taking care of their parents and their children at the same time. And, speaking of children, we sit by silently as our children are being stripped of their childhoods. They are pulled in more directions than ever before and have to make difficult decisions as where to spend their time. Unfortunately, they sometimes choose to drop Hebrew School, a place that can help them put their lives into perspective and help them find a balance in their lives. The pressures of success, peer pressure, sex, and continually having to achieve, achieve, and achieve are exacting a toll. And let us not forget about all the students in our local schools that can’t afford school supplies and clothing, and aren’t sure where their next meal is coming from.
We watched the American economy plummet, and as a consequence, we have lamented and comforted the incredible numbers of people who have lost jobs at an alarming rate: 159,000 thousand American citizens alone who lost their jobs during the month of September, including members of our Beth Am family. We were witnesses to the crash of Wall Street and large financial institutions such as Merrill Lynch and Lehman Brothers. We watched as the US Congress, and then the president signed a $700 Billion bailout of the financial industry. And this economy has taken a toll on the average citizen. It is hard to even afford a decent place to live, even within our Beth Am community. There are those in our community who grew up here in Cheltenham, Abington, and Lower Moreland, and, in adulthood, starting their own families, have discovered that they cannot afford to live in their hometowns.
The mixed emotions we feel; the joys and celebrations of the past year, side by side with the sorrows and hardships, are all reflected in the voice of the Shofar. We hear joyful noise, trepidation, and devastation.
And, as the New Year of 5769 begins, what will the New Year bring? Will we feel shared bonds of community? Or growing isolation and loneliness? What will the future bring for us, for our family, for our friends, for our communities in which we live?
Consider for a moment these two questions…
• What are your hopes and dreams for you and your family?
• What upsets you most about the world in which we live?
These two very personal questions not only inspire us think about our lives and the journey each of us along with our loved ones are taking, but how we interact and engage with the greater world around us. Beth Am’s Tekiah project will address the very human feelings and emotions that we as a community have and will lead to a series of conversations in the homes of our congregants. We’ve called this project Tekiah, taken from the prophet Isaiah’s command:
Raise your voice like a shofar! This model is community organizing from the grassroots: gathering and meeting people where they are at, finding common ground with our neighbors, and identifying problems that, with our combined strength, are solvable. Our project is based on a program conducted at Reform Congregation Shir Tikva in Wayland, Massachusetts by my colleague and their senior rabbi, Neal Gold.
Here is the way Neal described the Tekiah project to his congregation: Tekiah is the cutting edge of what is happening in congregational life throughout America. All over the country, synagogues are overhauling traditional models of “social action” – namely, models where all the work of justice and caring in a congregation is taken on by just a few people, rather than the entire community. Or where the work of volunteering in a soup kitchen is mandatory, but no one asks the deeper question: Why, in our land of unfathomable plenty, are there people within one mile of here do not have enough to feed their children every day? Which is the Jewish ideal? Obviously – both. Our goal is to create a many-spoked wheel where all these things happen. Jewish living demands the sensitivity and compassion to be able to reach across the line at the soup kitchen and offer human contact and love. And the tradition of the prophets demands that we ask the hard questions, the political questions – and that we turn them into religious questions.”
There’s a story about the great 19th Century Rabbi Yisrael Salanter. He once gathered together a group of his students a few days before Pesach. He was about to send them out to inspect a local matzah-baking factory to certify its matzah Kosher for Passover. One of his disciples, recalling all the halakhic details that are involved in preparing matzah, asked, “Rabbi, is there anything in particular we should be looking for when we are at the factory?” Rabbi Salanter answered, “Yes, most certainly. When you visit the factory, you’ll see an old woman working there, baking the matzah. She is poor and has a large family to support. Make sure she receives a living wage!” That’s how you know the matzah is kosher.
I know you are asking yourself, “What will the Tekiah project look like at Beth Am and how can I get involved?” We will begin will a series of “home conversations.” They will take place during this fall and will be conducted by our trained Tekiah Project core team, consisting of dedicated members of our congregation. Burt Siegel, the almost retired executive director of the Jewish Community Relations Council has kindly agreed to train our team of congregants in community organizing and be our advisor throughout the project. Burt has been doing community organizing and interfaith work for over thirty-five years in the greater Philadelphia area and it is an honor to have him working with our congregation.
These conversations will allow us to hear your stories, will encourage you to share your passions, and allow us to begin a conversation as to how we can address the needs of our community. You can choose to either host a meeting or attend one in another congregant’s home. If you choose to host, we encourage you to invite you friends here at Beth Am to come into your home for this important conversation. If you choose to attend but not host, we will assign you a home to be a part of the conversation. Outside of this sanctuary, you will find a ten foot shofar, designed and built by Sherry Kravitz, to keep this project on the forefront of your mind. Thank you Sherrie for your hard work and efforts! And thanks also go out to Bob Brodsky for building the stands the shofar stands on. You will also find a board with your name on it. Place a blue sticker next to your name if you would like to host and an orange sticker if you would like to attend. Make a choice to get involved in one of these ways. There are members of our Beth Am community that heard about the project before today and have already committed to hosting a conversation in their home. Thank you for your help!
After these “home conversations” take place, the core team will come together and cull the results, identifying three major categories of concern for Beth Am congregants. Then, on the evening of January 17th, 2009, we will reconvene here in the Molish Sanctuary for the first ever Beth Am Social Action rally. We will have speakers, including Burt Siegel himself along with this year’s Evelyn and Harry Silver scholar-in-residence Rabbi David Saperstein, executive director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, our movement’s lobbying arm in Washington D.C. That evening, besides waving Beth Am Social Action Rally Towels, we will announce the creation of three Task Forces which will begin to address the issues identified by you during the home conversations. This will be your chance to choose a task force to be a part of and begin to make a difference in our community. The task forces will then begin meeting and will pave the way to finding solutions which plague our society. Each task force will decide what they will need to do to address their issue. Eventually, we will involve the interfaith community in our efforts. We are stronger together than we are apart!
Tekiah! Today is the day we sound that shofar.
Twenty-six hundred years ago, the prophet Isaiah spoke to the exiles of Babylonia with a vision of renewed hope in what their community could mean. He called to that congregation of Israel:
Raise your voice like a shofar! The prophet’s voice call to us today. Fifty-four years ago Albert Vorspan and the Union for American Hebrew Congregations re-established the Commission on Social Action. This commission called then, and calls to us now, as a sacred community of individuals to reach out for one another when we consider how frightening life can be.
Raise your voice like a shofar! In every place where the momentum of society makes the world colder or crueler or harsher, we are to be the voice of an alternative sound;
Raise your voice like a shofar! Wherever the world would have us sacrifice our children (like Abraham almost did) on the altar of competition or superficial success (or getting into that good school);
Raise your voice like a shofar! Wherever the powers-that-be would destroy something precious for the sake of the corporate “bottom line”;
Raise your voice like a shofar! Wherever the society around us would prefer that we dilute our identities as Jews for the sake of “fitting in.” Together, as a Beth Am community, let’s stop for a few moments –
And let the leopard back into the sanctuary. Let him roar and lash his tail. We have much work to do. But, don’t be dismayed. The great rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel who referred to marching with Dr. King in Selma, Alabama, “Worship with his feet” once wrote, “Religion’s task is to cultivate sensitivity to other people’s suffering. God has a stake in the life of every man. He never exposes humanity to a challenge without giving humanity the power to face the challenge.” Imagine the chorus that we will create, not just the voice of one shofar crying in the wilderness, but another, and another, and another, and yet another, as each adds their voice into one great symphony of change.
Then we will know that the New Year, 5769, will be one where we will truly be written in the Book of Life, for we will have inscribed our names there, together, as one kehilah kedosha, as a holy community. Cain Yehi Ratzon. May it be God’s will. And let us say, Amen.
1. The above excerpted and adapted from the Spring 2008 CCAR Journal, In the Beginning: A Personal Memoir of Social Action and Reform Judaism in America, by Albert Vorspan
2 Michael Jonas, “The Downside of Diversity,” The Boston Globe, August 5, 2007.
3 Robert Putnam, “You Gotta Have Friends,” Time, June 25, 2006
4 From a sermon by Rabbi Neal Gold, Raise Your Voice Like a Shofar, Rosh Hashanah 5768
5 Adapted from Rabbi Neal Gold, Raise Your Voice Like a Shofar, Rosh Hashanah 5768
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