These last two weeks of
news, especially news somewhat related to the Jewish community, have featured
examples of separation and coming together, dissonance and harmony. Let me show you what I
mean.
Israeli
Education Minister Naftali Bennett recently visited one of the Conservative
Jewish movement’s Solomon Schechter day schools in the United States. He was immediately criticized by
Israeli Chief Rabbi David Lau, who asserted, “To speak deliberately with a specific community and to
recognize it and its path, when this path distances Jews from the path of the
Jewish people, this is forbidden. If Minister Bennett would have asked my
opinion before the visit, I would have said to him explicitly, ‘You cannot go
somewhere where the education distances Jews from tradition, from the past, and
from the future of the Jewish people.” Naftali Bennett responded that he was proud to
join in community with members of all branches of Judaism around the
world.
There was one more important response to Chief rabbi
Lau. Amichai Lau-Lavie is known
for his great work in creating and sustaining Storahtelling, a program that
effectively dramatizes Torah readings for congregations to make them come alive
during worship. Lau-Lavie will be
ordained as a conversative rabbi at the Jewish Theological Seminary in
May. He is also a first cousin of
Chief Rabbi David Lau. Expressing
extreme disappointment in his high-placed relative, Lau-Lavie declared in a
widely-published open letter: “To Rabbi Lau, my respected cousin: We
came together not too long ago at my father’s grave, where we paid joint
tribute to the heritage of our forefathers. But let’s bear respect not only for
our beautiful past. Here and now, let’s look together toward the future — in
which there is great animosity and many foes, but also a great thirst for
spirituality and religion and in which there can also be great peace emerging
out of mutual support and the discovery of courageous ways to work toward the
continuity of our tradition – in all its many faces.”
The Vatican made a landmark statement this past week about how Catholics
should approach members of the Jewish community. The headlines noted that the Catholic Church will not
officially pursue efforts to convert Jews. Individual Catholics are still called upon to bear witness
to their faith to all people. The document
recommended to Catholics to speak about their own
faith to Jews in a “humble and sensitive manner,” particularly in light of the
Holocaust. What was clear
from the Catholic Church’s statement is that the Jewish covenant with God is
still intact, in force, and valid, and that we, as Jews have a path to
salvation all our own.
That statement from the Vatican was not
good enough for Jews for Jesus.
David Brickner, executive director of Jews for Jesus, claimed that any
group that calls itself Christian must
fulfill the Great Commission of the New Testament to convert all humankind to a
belief in Jesus as the one true Savior of Humanity. Brickner stated last Friday that his organization finds the Vatican’s position “…egregious,
especially coming from an institution which seeks to represent a significant
number of Christians in the world.”
This turn of events seems to confirm that Jews for Jesus is a group that
must be defined as essentially Christian.
The aspects of their practice that one could call “outward Jewish
trappings” are intended to bring more Jews to the Jews for Jesus mode of belief
and practice. This organizations
declared good intentions in its missionary work lost a great deal of luster
when Brickner claimed that the Vatican was “pandering to Jewish leaders” with
its recent statement.
Finally, I was intrigued at
the responses from both ends of the political spectrum at the inclusion of
Rabbi Susan Talve of Central Reform Synagogue in St. Louis at the White House
Hanukkah celebration on December 9.
She offered an invocation at the event, speaking from her heart about issues
near and dear to her and her approach to Judaism in action, including curbing
violence in our communities (including gun violence), justice for Palestinians
and security for Israelis and peace for the two sides together, and maintaining
calm in our communities at home.
Rabbi Talve, one of my rabbinic school classmates, served as a faith
leader in peaceful demonstrations in Ferugson, Missouri, which attempted to foster
reconciliation and progress in relations between local citizens and law enforcement officials. After Rabbi Talve’s high-profile
appearance at the White House, and even before, she was roundly criticized by
left-wing organizations for her persistent support for Israel while, at the
same time, working with the Black Lives Matter movement. Left-wing groups see
her as a walking contradiction, with some activists openly decrying her with
the hastag “Real Terrorist.”
From the right, one commentator, Daniel Greenfield, wrote that “Rabbi
Talve’s behavior at the White House was deeply insulting to the religious
Jewish community and made it clear that the White House was determined to
hijack even a Chanukah party to promote an anti-Jewish agenda.” Rabbi Talve made her remarks in
the presence of President (and Mrs.) Obama and Israeli president Reuven Rivlin,
who both spoke right before her invocation. What she said had been preceded by similar sentiments voiced
by President Rivlin, as he expressed
a hope for peace in the Middle East. He made this statement to the crowd
gathered that night: “Today,
we see around the world terrible crimes, and danger to humanity which cause a
lack of respect, a lack of freedom of faith, and a lack of freedom of religion.
Each night of Hanukkah, we add a new light to the menorah. Rabbi
Abraham Heschel, one of the best friends of Martin Luther King, wrote in his
book, Insecurity of Freedom, that people usually follow the path of regression.
They begin high and fall down. But instead, we should be like the
Hanukkah candles and follow the path of progression. He said that the
people will have the strength to ascend if leaders…continue to rise….I would
like to light this candle, this little flame, with a prayer and hope that one
day, religious, cultural and moral liberty will be enjoyed without question by
each and every person in the world.”
All of these messages
that reflect consideration for others uneasily coexist next to declarations
that seem to widen divisions between people based on politics, race and
ideology. This persistent conflict
called to mind for me the scene in this week’s Torah reading. Joseph, second-in-command in Egypt,
knew that his brothers had come during the famine to provide food for their
family. He concocted an elaborate
scheme to see if his brothers would bring down his younger full-brother
Benjamin, whom he knew was the apple of his father’s eye that he would not want
to leave home. Once Benjamin did
come, and Joseph had his courtiers frame Benjamin as a thief, Joseph had
created the ultimate test: would his brothers abandon Benjamin as they once had
done to Joseph? With this
threat to their well-being, the brothers spoke with remorse about what they had
done to Joseph, not knowing they were standing right before the aggrieved party
who heard and understood every word they said. Joseph realized that his brothers had changed, as had
he. He revealed himself to his
family and made reconciliation possible for one major reason. It was Joseph who finally could
interpret his own dreams. He had
arrived at the moment when his family was bowing down to him, but not because
he was superior. After Joseph told his brothers that he really was their
long-lost sibling, he assured them that he knew that it was God who had sent
him ahead to Egypt to save their lives.
There was no higher calling than that for this now-great leader of Egypt
who had come from such humble beginnings.
I don’t expect full agreement
from those who are sitting in front of me or will read this online regarding
the examples I have shared tonight of how we find ways to build bridges in some
cases towards one another, and, sadly, some construct tall, impenetrable
barriers in other situations. At the
very least, we need to listen to one another just in case someone with whom we
disagree may have a point. Even
more, we need to ask ourselves if what we are saying and doing follows a higher
purpose well noted in Judaism, and included in Rabbi Talve’s remarks at the
White House – that we are called upon by our heritage to see the face of God in
the faces of all people. That
principle drives much of what I do, including reaching out to Muslim colleagues
in my local interfaith work who have had people in local public places harangue
and verbally accost them because of their outward appearance. These individuals with whom I have
worked locally, and the vast, vast majority of Muslims worldwide, have no
alliance whatsoever with those very few who have perpetrated horrible acts of
terror and violence which they, for themselves, associate with their view of
Islam. We know that we, as Jews,
don’t like being stereotyped, because that approach leads to generalized
hatred. We should do
all we can not to take that approach of stereotyping and generalizing with
people of other faiths and backgrounds.
The song that gave this talk its
title in the Temple’s Adelante newsletter was just entering onto the charts
50 years ago this week. “Life is
very short and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend” should be a
watchword for all of our relationships.
We can work it out – all of it – if we see the higher purpose of our
existence on earth. As our
prayerbook states, “O may all, created in Your image,
become one in spirit, and one in friendship, forever united, God, in your
service.” And further: “May our
deeds exceed our speech, and may we never lift up our hand but to conquer fear
and doubt and despair…light up the universe, our God, with the joy of
wholeness, of freedom, and of peace.” We can work it out, and build bridges, and foster hope
throughout the world, if we rise above conflict and see the higher purposes
revolving around us, just like Joseph was finally able to do. May we find a way to that vision. And let us say amen.
