Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5778

Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5778

Kehilat Shalom

Rabbi Charles L. Arian

What makes pizza, pizza?

What blessing should Jews say before eating pizza? Why?

A number of years ago I read an article in a rabbinic journal discussing this question. In order to answer this question you first have to decide what is the “ikar”, the main essence, of pizza. Is it the crust, or is it the cheese and sauce? The author decided that the crust is what makes pizza, pizza. But that alone doesn’t settle the question, because for grain products that are like bread but not actually bread, you still say the hamotzi blessing if it’s a meal but “borei mini mezonot,” the blessing for pastry and cake, if it’s a snack. Is one slice of pizza a meal, or a snack? So here we need to know not only halacha, Jewish law, but also certain facts on the ground. It’s not a simple question.

The author decided that whether pizza is a meal or a snack could change depending on geography. In Boston, where he lived, one slice of pizza could be a snack because the slices there are relatively small. But New York slices are bigger and even one slice would be considered a meal. So one slice of pizza in Boston is mezonot but more than one is hamotzi. In New York, even one slice is hamotzi.

Admittedly the whole matter can get a little obsessive. Nevertheless,  I do believe that the concept of saying a b’racha before we eat or drink is important. But, we need to understand not only what we say but why we say it.

The whole reason for blessings is to instill gratitude and awareness that what we have is a gift from God. The Talmud in Berachot 35a discusses the question of why we are obligated to say a blessing and states that “anyone who enjoys any of the good things in this world, and doesn’t say a blessing, is, as it were, stealing from God.” In other words, what God provides for us has a price tag. The purchase price is a b’racha.

This is perhaps self-evident if you have a traditional theology and believe in an omnipotent God. But if you have a more naturalistic theology, if you believe along with Rabbi Harold Kushner that God set the world in motion and does not intervene, this becomes theologically problematic. You have probably heard me say from this pulpit that the bad things that have happened -- whether it be natural disasters or tragic deaths -- were not caused by God and that God cries along with us when these things happen. But if we don’t blame God for the bad stuff, why should we thank Him for the good stuff? It does seem somewhat inconsistent.

This dilemma first occurred to me more than 30 years ago when my very old Datsun B-210 broke down. At the time I was going to rabbinical school in Cincinnati and I was teaching a class at Denison University in Granville, Ohio -- 140 miles away. This was well before the era of cellphones. When my car started making funny noises and losing power, I pulled off of I-71. When the car finally stopped altogether it was right in front of a Protestant church, and I managed to coast into the church parking lot. I went inside, explained to the secretary who I was and what had happened, and she couldn’t have been nicer or more helpful. She made sure someone gave me a ride to my class and that the car was towed to a mechanic with a reputation for honesty. When I finally got back to Cincinnati I told my classmates that I wasn’t sure whether I should be mad at God that my car broke down; or grateful to God that it broke down in a place where people were willing to help me. And then I realized that neither one really made complete sense. I don’t really believe that God had very much to do with my car breaking down. I just don’t think the world works that way.

So if I hold that God is not responsible for what happens to us on a day-to-day basis, why do I nevertheless think it’s important to thank God for the good things we enjoy in life?

The answer, I think, has to do with what kind of person  we want to be. In Deuteronomy chapter 8, we read “when you have eaten and been satisfied, you shall bless Adonai your God.” Eat, be satisfied, and bless -- in that order -- which is why we have Grace After Meals. The commentary Merotz Hatzvi says “If one wishes to be satisfied by the results of his labors, if he believes in the Almighty and blesses Him for all he has received, then - he will be sated and satisfied. But if he believes that only his own efforts have brought him his success, he will never be satisfied, as it is written (Proverbs 13:25): “the belly of the wicked is never satisfied.” I would frankly rather be the type of person who does not get angry at God when bad things happen but expresses gratitude to God when good things happen. I think that is the kind of person who is happiest and most pleasant to be around. Conversely, we all know people who never have enough wealth or power or fame, who believe that they are self-made men and worship their creator.

A few years ago at a Rotary Club meeting in Norwich, CT, I met a young man from a nearby town by the name of Dan Holdridge. Dan was working as a civilian IT contractor at the Pentagon on the morning of September 11, 2001. Although he was not a smoker, his work partner was, so Dan accompanied him to the courtyard for a smoke break. When American Airlines flight 77 hit the Pentagon, Dan would have been killed if he had been at his desk. Everyone he worked with, except that one colleague, was killed. Dan was injured.

A few days after 9/11 Dan came back home to Connecticut to recuperate. Dan’s body soon healed but his spirit and soul were shattered. Dan experienced what we know as “survivor’s guilt.” Why did I survive when so many others did not? He threw himself into his work and into volunteer activities, but he still felt empty inside.  He explains that through psychological counseling and involvement in his church, he figured out why he felt so empty and how he could begin to get his life back on track.

There were a few things Dan needed to do, he wrote in his book “Pentagon Prayer,” that would let him put his life back together. One was to give up on his anger. “I have to let go of my anger and hatred for the terrorists. It is eating me up inside and keeping me from moving on. . . If I can do it, they lose their power over me. If I can let go of this anger, I can regain control. I’m going to try.”

I should add that I don’t believe that Dan is saying that the world would be a perfect place if we all just laid down our arms, grabbed hands and sang “Kumbaya.” I think what he is saying is that if we let our anger and resentment control us, those who have hurt us continue to set our agenda and hurt us again and again. Hate can become an all-consuming emotion that prevents us from truly living.

Beyond letting go of his anger, Dan writes that the second key to his inner healing was to learn to appreciate what he still had. He wrote that surviving 9/11 gave him a new understanding of life and the world. It gave him the gift of appreciation. “I now have the ability to be thankful for everything that I have. And I appreciate that. . . Others have the same experience every day. If you want to appreciate life, go volunteer at an oncology ward. Go see people fighting for their lives. Do you think you’re entitled to three square meals a day? Go volunteer at a soup kitchen and watch people appreciate every bite of food. That’s what life is.”

No one ever wants to suffer tragedy, but tragedy can be an opportunity to learn and to grow. In 31 years as a rabbi, I have spoken with a lot of congregants who are suffering from cancer, and their families. It is never an easy thing, but I have often been amazed and appreciative of the bravery and the grace with which so many of those suffering from cancer deal with their illness.

But dealing as a rabbi with a congregant who is fighting cancer, is different than dealing as a son with a mother who is fighting cancer. You all know that my mother passed away in July.  What you might not know is that for six years she lived with a very rare and aggressive form of thyroid cancer -- so rare, in fact, that only 300 cases of it are diagnosed in this country every year. When she was first diagnosed, tests seemed to indicate that pursuing treatment was pointless and her best option was simply to set her affairs in order and enjoy whatever time she had left. Subsequent tests changed things somewhat and ultimately she did decide to pursue treatment. Unfortunately, the treatment itself almost killed her and she asked that it be stopped; she nevertheless survived for almost six more years.

While she was trying to figure out her next step my Mom said something interesting to me. I knew that when I was fifteen she had surgery for an ocular melanoma as a result of which she was blind in one eye. But at the time she had that illness I was on a six-week  teen program in Israel, cellphones had not yet been invented, international phone calls were expensive and pay phones in Israel somewhat scarce, so I guess I never really realized how sick my mother was at the time. At any rate, about six years ago in the hospital she explained to me why she was facing the prospect of death with a sense of calm acceptance.

“When I was 40, I was told that I had six months to live,” she said to me. “That was thirty-six years ago. I got thirty-six extra years, and I enjoyed every day of them, and I was grateful for every day of them.” It is that sense of gratitude which gave her the ability to accept whatever was coming her way with a certain interior calm, and to face her death some six years later, after declining treatment for a recurrence of her cancer, with that same sense of calm.

The 23rd Psalm is perhaps the most popular Psalm for both Christians and Jews. And yet, because we tend to know it in its King James translation or one based on it, we may not really understand what it’s saying. “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want” was an accurate translation in 1611 but our language has changed. The Hebrew “lo echsar” means “I lack nothing” and that is what “I shall not want” meant in 1611. It’s not talking about the commandment not to covet but rather, it conveys a sense that I have all that I need.

On the Shabbat before each new moon, we ask God to bless the coming month and ask that it be filled with such things as peace, goodness and blessing. We ask for “osher v’chavod,” wealth and honor. And we ask for “yirat shamayim,” reverence for God. But interestingly, we ask for “yirat shamayim” twice. Why is that? Chasidic commentaries point out that the first mention of “yirat shamayim” comes before we ask for wealth and honor, and the second mention comes afterwards. The idea is that poor people have more yirat shamayim, reverence for God, than wealthy people. So we need to pray that we still have our piety even after we have attained wealth.

The Torah tells us that material wealth is given to us as a blessing from God. But it also warns us not to assume that somehow wealth is our due. The same chapter of Deuteronomy which tells us to say a blessing after we eat, warns us not to allow our hearts to grow proud after we build fine houses, increase our flocks, and amass silver and gold.  “You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.” 18 But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your ancestors, as it is today.”

The Torah here is reminding us that all we have is a gift from God; but because we also know that we have to work hard for what we have, we may somehow think that material wealth is a sign of God’s favor. We may wrongly believe that people who have wealth, have it because of their worthiness in God’s eyes; and people who lack wealth, are poor because God is punishing them for something.

This idea reached its zenith in a misreading of what sociologist Max Weber called the “Protestant work ethic.” Weber’s analysis says that the Calvinist tradition sees affluence as a visible sign of God’s grace. This work ethic is responsible, according to Weber, for the fact that societies such as the United States, the United Kingdom and northern Europe , which are rooted in Protestantism, are more affluent than societies which are rooted in Catholicism. The Protestant work ethic sees labor and accumulation of wealth as worthy.

But it can too easily lead us to believe that the wealthier we are, the worthier we are, the more beloved of God. This is the origin of the “prosperity gospel” preached by televangelists like Joel Osteen, Jimmy Swaggart, Creflo Dollar, Joyce Meyers and others. Is the accelerated concentration of wealth in the United States -- in 1915, the richest 1 per cent of the population had 15 per cent of the income, while today the richest 1 per cent has 24 per cent of the national income -- a result of this belief? Would Moses or Isaiah have approved of the fact that since 1979, the share of the nation’s income received by the wealthiest  one-tenth of one percent of the population has gone from 2 percent to eight percent?

We have developed an idealization of wealth when what we need is a theology of abundance. Rabbi Naamah Kelman of Jerusalem writes “A theology of abundance is counter to affluence. A theology of gratitude is a reminder that we are vessels of God’s gifts, not totally in control . . . Once there is abundance we can be generous. We reach out to the other, we feed the stranger.”

When we are aware that all we have is a gift from God, then we recognize that it does not really “belong” to us. It is lent to us, entrusted to us, and we are obligated both to thank God for it and to use it for good purposes. If we think that what we have is ours, that we deserve it, it is never enough and we are not likely to share it. The attitude of gratitude, the theology of abundance, the sense of appreciation-- these can get us back on track, as a society and as individuals. When you sit down to eat, take a few seconds to say a b’racha, to thank God for your blessings. Share some of your abundance with those who don’t have enough. Volunteer to help out with the meals our synagogue does at the emergency shelter, or send a donation to my discretionary fund earmarked for those meals.  May we in the New Year appreciate what we have, learn to be satisfied, and share it with others. AMEN.

Charlottesville

I began my rabbinical career in Charlottesville, Virginia. From 1988 to 1991 I was the director of the Hillel Jewish Student Center (today called the Brody Jewish Center) at the University of Virginia. The Charlottesville and U.Va. Jewish communities were a lot smaller than they are now. Besides Hillel there was one other Jewish organization, Congregation Beth Israel, and until shortly before I arrived it did not have a rabbi. My Hillel predecessor, Rabbi Dan Alexander, left Hillel to become the rabbi of Beth Israel and served there for 28 years until he retired last year. Although Beth Israel is Reform, it has Conservative services on Shabbat morning and I attended those on Saturdays when there were no services at Hillel. I also played on the Beth Israel softball team.

When rioting broke out in Charlottesville and then three people died as a result, Keleigh and I were out of the country. But as I read and learn about what happened, and as I listen to the President’s remarks, I grow more and more concerned.

Let’s be very clear here. On Friday night Nazis marched through the U.Va. “Grounds” (U.Va. uses its own terminology and has “Grounds” rather than a “Campus”) carrying torches, chanting the Nazi slogan “Blood and Soil” and “Jews Will Not Replace Us.”

On Saturday, three Nazi militiamen dressed in fatigues stood across from the synagogue carrying AR-15 rifles. The leadership of the synagogue, fearing trouble, asked the city for police protection which was denied. (In fairness, it should be noted that the whole City of Charlottesville has only 127 police officers and they were understandably stretched thin.) So the synagogue hired an armed security guard and removed the Torah scrolls for safekeeping. On Saturday morning, after services, congregants left the building through the back door so they wouldn’t be seen by the Nazi protestors.

Let’s be very clear about what happened. There can be no moral equivalency and no equivocation. The President said that what happened was the fault of both sides. Were there anti-Nazi protesters who acted violently? Yes, there were. But the overwhelming majority were there to silently oppose racism and support equal rights for those of all races, religions, orientations, etc. Clergy from all over the country, including a very close friend who is a Methodist minister from Richmond, locked arms to keep the Nazis away from the counter-protesters. And yet, they were met with violence, and one person was killed -- as were two state police officers in a helicopter crash nearby.

The President said on Tuesday that while there were bad people on both sides, there were also some “very fine people” on both sides. No. Very fine people do not march with Nazis and the Ku Klux Klan. This was not a rally about a statue, although the argument over the Robert E. Lee statue and the renaming of Lee Park to Emancipation Park was the cause celebre to which the Nazis and Klansmen hitched themselves. I absolutely agree that good and decent people were on both sides of the November election and that good and decent people can disagree about whether Confederate monuments should be allowed to remain or not.

But this rally wasn’t called “Save the Statue.” It was called “Unite the Right” and the posters and advertisements for the rally had Nazi, KKK, and anti-Jewish imagery. If you march in a Nazi - KKK rally, you are not a “fine person.” I often get invited to sign a statement or participate in activities initiated by the National Action Network. Very often I agree with the letter or activity but I will not participate in anything that the National Action Network does because it is headed by Rev. Al Sharpton, and as far as I’m concerned that makes it a treif organization. If Sharpton is treif, how much more so the Klan and the Nazis?

This really isn’t about politics. Condemnation of Nazis and the Klan shouldn’t be a political issue and it shouldn’t be difficult. As I was writing this, I received a press release from the Republican Jewish Coalition which I think sums things up very nicely:

The Nazis, the KKK, and white supremacists are dangerous anti-Semites. There are no good Nazis and no good members of the Klan. Thankfully, in modern America, the KKK and Nazis are small fringe groups that have never been welcome in the GOP. We join with our political and religious brethren in calling upon President Trump to provide greater moral clarity in rejecting racism, bigotry, and antisemitism. As representatives of the Party whose founder, Abraham Lincoln, broke the shackles of slavery, and of an organization with many members who experienced firsthand the inhumanity of the Nazi Holocaust, we state unequivocally our rejection of these hatemongers - you can expect no less from the Republican Jewish Coalition.

A Rabbinic Dispensation to Fly in Air Force One on Shabbat?

Air Force One left Andrews Air Force Base on Friday afternoon for Saudi Arabia, and among those onboard were Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump. The family belongs to an Orthodox synagogue and Ivanka was converted to Judaism by a well-respected Orthodox rabbi, Rabbi Haskel Lookstein. White House spokespeople apparently told the press that they had received a “rabbinic dispensation” to fly on Shabbat, something Orthodox Jews are normally not permitted to do. Rabbi Lookstein has denied giving the couple permission to fly on Shabbat, according to the Israeli daily Yediot Aharonot, but the fact of the matter is that he was never identified as the rabbi who supposedly gave this permission.

Is there such a thing as a “rabbinic dispensation”? Did Jared and Ivanka violate halacha by flying in Air Force One on Shabbat? My answer to both questions is “no.”

First of all, there is no such thing as a “rabbinic dispensation.” In the Catholic church, the pope or a local bishop can grant a “dispensation” when in their opinion, following a specific law would create an undue hardship. The most famous recent dispensation came earlier this year when St. Patrick’s Day fell on a Friday during Lent, and many bishops relaxed the prohibition on eating meat on Friday in Lent so that Catholics could eat the traditional corned beef and cabbage. Rabbis have no such power; no rabbi can release a Jew from following Jewish law due to severe hardship.

Since we don’t know who the rabbi was that allegedly gave this “dispensation,” we can’t know the reasoning behind it. However, Rabbi Jeffrey Woolf, a professor of Talmud at Bar-Ilan University in Israel, with a Ph.D. from Harvard and ordination from Yeshiva University, wrote that in his opinion Jared and Ivanka’s plane flight was perfectly permissible. He writes: “there are times when the conflict between observance and public responsibility cannot be avoided. In cases of life or death, the Torah commands that Shabbat be set aside to the degree necessary to save lives. This is the guiding principle of the Israel Defense Forces, and the reason that ministers in the Israeli government sometimes violate Shabbat in an emergency. Most such cases, though, are far less dramatic and occur when pressing demands of the public welfare require the attention of the public servant who is also an Orthodox Jew. The individual is then allowed to violate rabbinically legislated restrictions. This is not because a ‘dispensation’ is given (a Catholic term that has no place in Judaism). Rather, Jewish Law maintains that when these rules were enacted, very limited exceptions were built in for extraordinary circumstances and/or persons.”

To understand Rabbi Woolf’s argument, it’s necessary to know that in halacha there are two types of laws: biblical and rabbinic. Biblical laws cannot be suspended except in cases of life and death, but rabbinical laws can be suspended “when pressing demands of the public welfare require the attention of the public servant who is also an Orthodox Jew,” in Rabbi Woolf’s words.

Without getting too technical, it seems to me that flying in Air Force One on Shabbat involves violation of rabbinic but not biblical laws. While operating a car or other conveyance such as an airplane would be a biblical violation, riding in one is only a rabbinic violation at best. The main violation of riding in a conveyance on Shabbat would be amira la-akum, asking a Gentile on Shabbat to perform forbidden labor on your behalf. If the conveyance is operating regardless of whether you are on it or not, technically there is no violation at all. (The main problem with riding the Metro on Shabbat would be carrying the Smartrip card and operating the fare gates.)

Air Force One took off before Shabbat, so getting to Andrews wouldn’t have involved any prohibitions, and it would have flown the same route regardless of whether or not they were on board.  Of course, they landed in Saudi Arabia on Shabbat and then were driven in a car, but again the car wasn’t provided exclusively for them and at any rate they didn’t direct the driver, so I see no issue of amira la-akum here either.

It’s important to remember that Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner didn’t go to Saudi Arabia on vacation or a private business trip. They both hold official, though unpaid, appointments as advisors to the President and as such are government officials. While I’ve seen suggestions that they should have flown a day earlier or a day later, I’m certain that meetings were held and speeches rewritten in the plane on the way over, and thus being on the flight was part of their governmental responsibilities.

They aren’t the first observant Jews to have to deal with tensions between Shabbat observance and their official duties. While Senator Joe Lieberman usually walked to the Capitol when important Senate business was conducted on Shabbat, there were times when he allowed himself to be driven there in an emergency or when the weather didn’t allow him to walk. He did this only for Senatorial duties, not for politics. He never campaigned on Shabbat and never attended the Connecticut State Democratic Conventions which nominated him, because they were held on Shabbat. Jack Lew -- someone I know personally and in whose house I have had Shabbat meals -- served in both the Clinton and Obama administrations as budget director and also served as both Chief of Staff and Treasury Secretary under President Obama. During both administrations, it was reported that he had a telephone number which was known only to the Oval Office, and which was used only in cases of emergency -- and when it rang, he picked it up.

During the course of my career I’ve met many Jews in government service who have had to make decisions about what they will or won’t do on Shabbat. I’ve spoken with career military officers who have seen their careers suffer because, while they will perform mission-sensitive work on Shabbat, they won’t attend purely social events. Unless we want to maintain that observant Jews can’t serve in crucial government or public safety roles, we ought to respect the decisions about Shabbat observance that others make in good faith, even if we think that in their place we would have decided differently. We also need to make sure that our evaluation of a decision another Jew makes about their observance isn’t clouded by our disapproval of the administration in which that person serves.

I don’t have any problem with the decision that Jared and Ivanka made. I am concerned about the way it was presented. There are valid worries that presenting this as a “rabbinic dispensation” rather than a legitimate setting aside of rabbinic prohibitions for public necessity may make it harder for other observant Jews in the future. “Jared and Ivanka got permission from their rabbi to fly on Air Force One, why can’t you get permission from your rabbi to make this presentation on Saturday?” We may need to explain the difference between government officials fulfilling their public responsibility on Shabbat on the one hand, and making a sales pitch or finishing an audit or a legal brief on the other It’s always an issue when observant Jews are perceived to be acting contrary to Jewish law, even when in fact they are not. It would be a public service for the rabbi who supposedly gave permission to step forward and explain his reasoning. I’m not an Orthodox rabbi, and there is no reason that the Kushner family would turn to me, but had they done so I would have advised them that it was proper for them to accompany the President in Air Force One on Shabbat. But I would have insisted that my reason for doing so be made public as well.

Thoughts After A Civil Rights Tour of Atlanta

I returned very late last night from Atlanta where I attended a conference for “Jewish innovators” called The Collaboratory. As part of the conference, yesterday morning I participated in a Civil Rights tour of Atlanta lead by Billy Planer, a Jewish educator who runs tours of the South for Jewish student and adult groups looking at the history of the Civil Rights movement, including the involvement of Jews in the movement.

Our first visit was to the Pencil Factory. This apartment and retail complex in a gentrifying neighborhood was the site of the National Pencil Factory managed by Leo Frank, a Jewish man originally from New York. In 1913, a 13-year-old female employee of the factory was murdered, Frank was falsely accused and convicted of the murder in a trial replete marked by vicious antisemitism. The governor of Georgia, John Slaton, towards the end of his term in office, concluded the trial was unfair, commuted Frank’s sentence from death to life in prison, and then himself fled the state with his family for ten years. The prison where Frank was held was stormed by a mob and Frank was lynched, the only white person ever lynched in the South. Frank was posthumously pardoned by the Georgia Parole Board in 1986. The Leo Frank lynching was the catalyst for the formation both of the Anti-Defamation League and the modern Ku Klux Klan.

From there we went to the Martin Luther King, Jr., historical site and visited both the Ebenezer Baptist Church where he preached, and the gravesite of Dr. King and his wife Coretta next door. After that, we went to the headquarters of the NAMES Project, aka the “AIDS Quilt.” We heard from the project’s executive director Julie Rhoad about the history of the Quilt and how our society did very little to find a cure or treatment for AIDS/HIV as long as it was thought to be a disease which mainly afflicted the LGBT community.

The unspoken but very real question: what if anything is the connection between antisemitism, racism, and prejudice against the LGBT community? What is the role of religion in both creating and fighting prejudice?

And then we returned to our hotel only to learn that a suspect has been arrested in connection with the spate of telephoned bomb threats to Jewish institutions. As we all know by now, the suspect is a Jewish teenager who lives in Israel and has both Israeli and American citizenship. From news reports, we learn that he was rejected by the Israel Defense Forces under circumstances which lead pretty clearly to the conclusion that he suffers from mental illness.

Before we breathe a sigh of relief that the hoaxer has been caught, let’s remember that it hasn’t only been bomb threats. Jewish cemeteries have been desecrated and swastikas have been painted on Jewish institutions, and it’s not likely that these crimes, too, were perpetrated by a teenager living in Israel. Even if the JCC threats were a hoax, antisemitism remains real.

This arrest also brings up another question for me. Yesterday I studied antisemitism, racism, and homophobia. What of prejudice towards those who are mentally ill? What if Congress repeals laws which require that insurance companies cover mental illness treatments the same way they cover treatments for other kinds of illness?

Lots of things to ponder.

Jews As "Resident Aliens"

More years ago than I care to acknowledge, I was the Hillel Director at the University of Virginia. We had an association called United Ministry which included most of the religious groups on campus, except for the extreme fundamentalist Christians who didn’t believe in participating with non-Christians.  Every year we would have a day-long retreat. We would all read the same book in advance and that would be the focus of our discussions.

One year the Methodist campus minister, Rev. Brooke Willson -- who is still a good friend -- suggested we read what was then a new book, Resident Aliens, by Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimons. The main thesis of the book is that for most of American history, White Protestant Americans controlled the culture and the government and simply got used to the idea that both reflected their ideals and beliefs. But since the 1960s, this was increasingly not the case. This is what gave rise to groups like the Moral Majority and similar Christian Right organizations. It was an attempt on the part of some White Protestants to turn the clock back.

Hauerwas and Willimons said this was a mistake. That first of all, it probably couldn’t be done. But even if it could be done, it shouldn’t be done. Something had gone wrong when Church and Empire fused under Constantine; and the Church, to be true to itself, should not seek to have coercive power or hold the reins of government. Hauerwas and Willimons said that Christians should learn to be more like the Jews, who lived for centuries under governments which were hostile or at best indifferent to their ideals and nevertheless managed to create supportive communities which met their needs and took care of each other.

Many of us are now concerned about the possibility that the United States may soon, or may have already, become a place where discrimination and xenophobia will become much more acceptable. It seems to me that these things are something against which we must all be vigilant, no matter who you voted for in the recent election.  I was glad to see that the President-elect promised to be the President for all Americans and reach out to those who didn’t support him for guidance and help. All of us -- Democrats, Republicans, and independents -- need to hold him to his word.

At the same time, Hauerwas and Willimons were on to something. As I said in my sermon on Kol Nidre evening, our experience as American Jews who are not subjects but citizens is, in historical terms, very novel. It may well be the case -- I hope not -- that as of January 20, we will be faced with a government that is opposed to many things we hold dear and supports many things we find reprehensible. This may be shocking to us but it would have been utterly familiar to most of our ancestors.

The prophet Micah said to “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God.” He didn’t say “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God -- as long as the White House says it’s OK.” The Torah commands us 36 times to love the stranger -- our commitment to fulfilling that mitzvah isn’t dependent on which party holds the White House or the Congress. As individuals and as a community, we can continue to love the stranger, support the weak and the disabled, feed the hungry, heal the sick and love our neighbors. This is at the heart of why we are Jews, and we can do it no matter who is in the White House. So let’s continue to do it, no matter what.

Morning After Thoughts

A couple of weeks ago I sent out a “Prayer Before Voting” which ends with the following words:

Creator of all flesh, we know also that the real work begins tomorrow morning. Whether or not I am pleased with the outcome of this election, help me to be a good citizen and work for understanding and reconciliation among all Americans. May we continue to work for the day when none shall hurt or destroy, when justice shall flow like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

That morning has now arrived. Based on the results in Montgomery County and also on the usual breakdown of the Jewish vote, most of you reading this are not pleased but some of you are. Now that the election is over, the hard work begins.

A few scattered thoughts:

1. We really are two countries, almost evenly divided in population. One of the things which I’ve not seen receive too much notice is that although Donald Trump won the Electoral College, Hillary Clinton seems to have won the popular vote by over 100,000. We have got to, as a nation, figure out how to speak with each other more civilly, try to work together and try to understand each other.
2. Our tradition wisely gives us a road map for dealing with grief and loss. When emotions are at their most raw we don’t do anything but focus on our loss. But there is a time limit. After sitting shiva we get up and ease back into our lives. If this describes you, it’s OK, in fact probably a good idea, to take some time and work through your grief. My only advice to you is be careful how you treat yourself and those around you for the next few days.
3. If you supported the winning side, congratulations. Just be aware that many people around you are in shock and grief. Be compassionate. Treat them as you would want to be treated.
4. Our commitments as Jews and as human beings don’t change or waver depending on who is in power. We are called to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God. This hasn’t changed.

A Prayer Before Voting

Early voting has begun in Maryland. Some of you reading this have already voted; it is my sincere hope that everyone reading this (unless you are not yet 18 or not a U.S. citizen) will vote either on Election Day or beforehand, via Absentee Ballot or early voting.

A number of years ago, on the morning of Election Day, I received an email from a classmate which said something along the following lines: “If you don’t vote, you have no right to complain. As a Jew, I am terrified of losing my right to complain.”

But the fact of the matter, as I explained in my sermon on Kol Nidre evening, is that throughout most of our history we Jews did not have a right to complain. Both democracy and full citizenship for Jews are relative late arrivals on the scene of world history. We ought to be grateful that we have this opportunity.

Barring a replay of the 2000 election or some other unforeseen occurrence, some of us will go to bed on November 8, or early in the morning of November 9, very happy, and others will go to bed unhappy. But for 220 years, since John Adams took over as president from George Washington, we have been blessed with a peaceful transition of power.

I have written a brief “Prayer Before Voting,” using many of the ideas contained in the Prayer for Our Country we say every Shabbat and holiday.  If it speaks to you, I’d be honored for you to use it:

“Eloheinu v’elohai avoteinu v’imoteinu,

Our God and God of our fathers and mothers,

I thank you for the opportunity to cast this vote.

May it strengthen the bonds of unity among all inhabitants of this country. May citizens of all races and creeds forge a common bond in true harmony, to banish hatred and bigotry, and to safeguard the ideals and free institutions that are the pride and glory of our country.

Creator of all flesh, we know also that the real work begins tomorrow morning. Whether or not I am pleased with the outcome of this election, help me to be a good citizen and work for understanding and reconciliation among all Americans. May we continue to work for the day when none shall hurt or destroy, when justice shall flow like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”