Parashat Noah 5769 -- Vote!

It is fitting that, this year, we will read Parashat Noah on the Shabbat before Election Day, November 4. I say “fitting” because this week’s Torah portion provides us with a lesson in civic involvement. We can imagine that Noah, whose name means “pleasantness,” must have looked out at his world and seen something quite the opposite. In his age, Noah was surrounded by corruption and lawlessness. God, as the text tells us, witnessed this corruption and told Noah “‘I have decided to put an end to all flesh, for the earth is filled with lawlessness because of them: I am about to destroy them with the earth” (Genesis 6:13). Noah was spared this end. As the Torah tells us, “Noah was a righteous man; he was blameless in his age; Noah walked with God” (Genesis 6:9).

Let us imagine Noah’s reaction to God’s dire pronouncement. Surely, even before God spoke to him, Noah must have feared that the troubles of his time were so great that the very fabric of society might rip apart around him. Surely, Noah had been expecting something terrible to happen. Surely, Noah knew that the created world was headed on a course to disaster. But this course? And, at the hands of God? Was Noah, this man of pleasantness, expecting God to destroy the world?

It is hard to say.

Noah, the blameless man, never gives us any indication of his feelings. God tells Noah, “Make yourself an ark,” and Noah sets about doing so (Genesis 6:14). He doesn’t argue. He doesn’t mourn. He doesn’t try to change his society for the better. He doesn’t say anything to forestall the destruction. He doesn’t do anything to stop God’s plan. He simply builds an ark.

In today’s world, we too are surrounded by global issues that threaten our society’s destruction. At home, we are concerned with financial crisis and healthcare, with war and unemployment. Globally, we are faced with poverty and climate change. Just to name a few concerns…

Yes, we might say, every generation faces destruction. But, age after age, we avoid that destruction. Destruction is avoided only by the actions of strong willed individuals, burning with a sense of moral outrage. Destruction is avoided when people care not only for themselves, but for the present and future of their society.

Destruction is avoided when people stop building their own arks and start changing the world around them.

Noah is an appropriate parasha for Election Day because it shakes us with this fundamental truth: It is not enough to be blameless. It is not enough to build our own arks. It is our responsibility to care for the entire world. Would Noah have gone to the voting booth on Election Day, or would he have busied himself with gopher wood?

On Election Day, it is not enough for us to build our own arks. We must add our voices to the multitude who are trying to stop the flood. We stop the flood when we exercise our civic duty by being agents of our own destiny. This is what being a contributing citizen is all about.

Parashat B'reishit 5769

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat B’reishit, we encounter the beginnings of our world. We are called upon to envision the process of turning chaos and void into earth and life. This week’s parasha, though, speaks not only of creation, but also of the fundamental definitions of what it means to be human. Being human means struggling and learning; it means falling and forgiving. Humans, we learn from the first stories of Torah, are creatures capable of violence and compassion, of good and evil.

In Parashat B’reishit, we read “God created the human beings in [the divine] image, creating [them] in the image of God” (Genesis 1:27). In this oft-cited verse, we learn that all human beings are considered equally close to the divine, regardless of our particular attributes or differences. We are taught that the first human being, adam, was created out of the dust of the earth, adamah, teaching us that we have a fundamental connection not only to all of humanity, but also to all of creation.

The question of what makes us essentially human has been on my mind since this past Sunday, after I listened to the National Public Radio program Speaking of Faith with Krista Tippett. The program, which airs locally on 89.3 KPCC at 4:00 pm on Sundays, explores issues of faith in meaningful and provocative ways. Speaking of Faith is my weekly post-religious school treat and I listen to it (pardon the pun) religiously!

This past week, the show was entitled “Being Autistic, Being Human.” (you can download the mp3 if you are interested). During the broadcast, Tippett’s guest, Paul Collins explains, “...Autism is an ability and a disability: it is as much about what is abundant as what is missing, an over-expression of the very traits that make our species unique. Other animals are social, but only humans are capable of abstract logic. The autistic out-human the humans and we can scarcely recognize the result.”

And I wonder again: What are the traits that make us essentially human? At the World Science Festival, held this past June in New York City, a panel of scientists gathered to discuss this very question. According to the Wired Science Blog, one participant, Marvin Minsky, an artificial intelligence pioneer, suggested that “We do something other species can’t: We remember. We have cultures, ways of transmitting information.”

And I think: Remembering. Yes! Is this not the ultimate purpose of Torah? Torah is meant to remind us that we have common origins. We read Torah to remember that we are all created in the same divine image. We read Torah to remember that we are called upon to be a just and compassionate people. We read Torah to remember that even before we were Israel, we were humanity. We read Torah to remember that being human means more than just existing.

We become fully human when we recognize the humanity of others. And, this I believe was the purpose of Tippett’s recent reflections. When we look to those around us and see them not as “less human,” but “more human,” we are able to elevate all of existence.

What does it mean to be human? It means to remember. And to remember carefully. For how we remember shapes who we are and what we will become. My blessing for us all on this Shabbat is that we remember and we remember well. May our foundational memories, retold to us this week, shape our actions toward good in this world.

Sukkot 5769

We find ourselves in the middle of the holiday of Sukkot. Sukkot is called Z’man Simchateinu, the Season of our Joy, for, on Sukkot, we are commanded to be joyful. Interestingly enough, on Sukkot we are also instructed to build sukkot, or temporary structures and to read the book of Ecclesiastes, a book filled with images of impermanence. And I wonder: What does our tradition want with us, leaving us with this odd mixture of joy and impermanence?

I believe that our tradition teaches us something profound this week: Our people have long recognized that moments of pure joy can be difficult to reach and recognize. We must treasure the moments of joy in our life and create space for them. Sukkot tells us: Once this elusive emotion is grasped, take pleasure in its coming and don’t worry about how long it will last.

In one of my favorite biblical passages, The Psalmist sings, “One may lie down weeping at nightfall; but at dawn there are songs of joy (Psalm 30:5). Life is full of moments of pain as surely as it is filled with moments of simcha. This is a time for seizing joy! As the poet Robert Graves explains, seizing it “despite and still.”

On this Sukkot, I pray that each of us takes time to reflect on the m’korot simcha, the sources of joy in our lives. May we draw these centers of joy close to us. As we take our lulav and etrog and eat our meals outside, let us remember that quiet skies follow even the windiest of days. As we gaze up through the roofs of our sukkot at the now waning moon in the sky, let us remember that everything that wanes will once again wax. “Those who sow in tears will reap in joy,” (Psalm 126:5). Let us all reap in joy in the days to come!

Exodus 33:12–34:26 is the special Torah portion this week. We read this portion on the Shabbat that falls during intermediary days of Sukkot.

Yom Kippur 5769 -- Love Your Neighbor as Yourself

My Yom Kippur Sermon on Marriage Equality begins...

A month after I was ordained as a rabbi, I found myself walking into a country club, signature black leather briefcase in hand, ready to officiate at my first Jewish wedding. Moments later, I looked down at the first California Marriage License I would sign as a solo officiant. My hand shook as I tried to make sense of the official document before me. I took a deep breath and brought to mind the calming words of Rabbi Cohen: Whatever you do, just don’t mess up the marriage license!

Click here to read the rest of the sermon.

Parashat Haazinu 5769

This week’s Torah Portion, Parashat Ha’azinu, provides us with both a touching and troubling look at Moses’ final days of life. The entire Torah portion is comprised of the Ha’azinu, or Give-Ear, poem, also called Moses’ Poem. In this final poem, Moses recites his understanding of God’s relationship with Israel. The masterful verses includes images of the divine, which are intended to both comfort and disturb the audience.

When I read this poem, I tend to focus not on its particular theologies, but on its intended purpose. This poem is Moses’ attempt to make meaning of his life. This poem is Moses’ attempt to communicate his beliefs and feelings with his community. Moses declares:

Give ear, O heavens, let me speak; Let the earth hear the words I utter! May my speech come down as the rain, My utterances distill as the dew, Like showers on young growth, Like droplets on the grass. For the name of Adonai I proclaim; Give glory to our God! (Deuteronomy 32:1-3)

Moses imagines that his words will have both immediate impact (like the falling of rain) and lasting impact (like the settling of dew). Moses sees his words as holy, being given in the name of Adonai. and with the purpose of glorifying the divine. What a model of speech for us all!

We are currently in the Ten Days of Awe between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. This is a time for us to consider our own words and actions carefully. Ha’azinu is a poignant reminder that holiness comes when we speak from our souls.

What words do you need to say aloud before Yom Kippur? To whom do you need to utter them?

During this time of year, we are expected not only to engage in holy speech, but also to engage in holy action. Each year at TBS, we provide our community with the opportunity to bring bags of food for the Second Harvest Food Drive. This food is needed now more than ever, as local food banks report decreased food stock and increased demand. We have a lot to learn from Moses’ proclamation.

We all know that it is quite easy to move through life without saying the difficult things we need to say or engaging in the important actions we need to complete. Torah’s lesson this week is clear: Speak and act wisely, and do so for the sake of heaven.

I pray that each one of us is moved in the days ahead to engage in both holy speech and holy action.

G’mar Chatimah Tovah!

Rosh Hashanah 5769 -- Searching for Meaning

My second day Rosh Hashanah sermon on Meaning begins...

This summer, my seven year old nephew Callan, came from Denver to stay with my partner Tali and I for a week. For us two thirty-somethings who live alone, anticipating the visit of a first grader was a big deal. Yes, Callan’s arrival was marked with much fanfare. We created a little bedroom for him in our home office. We bought food we thought a growing boy would like: turkey slices, Gatorade, baby carrots, nacho lunchables. We planned activities, signed him up for Camp Sholom, coordinated schedules, and made extensive lists. We talked about house rules. And so, when we picked up Callan from the airport on June 21, we were ready.

Click here to read the rest of the sermon.